Sudrian Trains
by HunterCreeper712
Summary: In 1945, Reverend Awdry introduced the world to a story he'd created to help his sick son sleep. In 1984, Britt Alcroft adapted the stories into TV format for the world. Since then, millions of people have read the books, watched the show, and enjoyed the story. This version is a combination of Awdry and Alcroft's visions, with characters, stories and nostalgic magic from both.
1. Sir Topham Hatt

**Chapter 1:**

"Well Mr. Hatt," The lawyer said. "Everything is in order. The North Western Railway, the three steam engines, and the business is yours and your wife's."

Topham Hatt handed back the signed lease papers and bid farewell to the lawyer. His Grandfather's massive will instated his booming Railway business to Topham, along with everything to it. He'd always loved working with the trains on that Railway and had worked in business management before now, making him the perfect candidate for it.

"Back off to the Island of Sodor then?" His wife asked, referring to the location of his new business.

"I believe I should get started right away!" He laughed. "You should take care of the house, as we'll not be needing it anymore!"

He waved to his wife as they split ways. Taking a cab to the nearby docks of Barrow-in-Furness, he prepared to board the first of his new trains.

It was August of 1952. Topham Hatt's new railway was running smoothly after repairs to the line were made after the war. He himself had not fought in the war, but had been turned down due to poor health at the time. A robust, bald man of 32 years who walked with a cane, he looked sharp in a new suit and felt wonderful. He checked a gold pocket watch to see his train was due any minute now, if it was running on time.

As it turned out, his train was not on time. Running roughly 5 minutes later than his schedule called for, he finally heard a deep whistle across the bridge connecting Mainland England and the Island of Sodor. He made a note to reprimand the train when it arrived.

As a the great, blue express engine puffed into the station and pulled round on the turntable, many onlookers were shocked to see what the North Western Railway was famous for. The sentient engines.

"Hello!" called the train, frightening a handful of children at first, though they laughed when he smiled. Topham had seen these trains before, but the effect was still incredible.

A spectacular American had come to Great Britain claiming he could grant life to vehicles, only to be laughed off by the greats of the day. All but Topham's Grandfather. The proposal had intrigued him and had granted the man access to his trains. The experiment proved successful and the man was paid well before leaving.

"Why, if it isn't Sir Topham Hatt!" The engine called with a cheerful yet dignified voice. "I do hope you remember me?" A large number Four emblazoned the engine's tender, quickly reminding Topham the name of this engine.

"Hello Gordon." He said happily. "I do hope you have an explanation for the delay?" He wanted to appear stern, but was far too excited at the prospect of talking to a train to be so.

"There was a slow bus at the crossing. I had to make an unscheduled stop." Gordon explained, now pulling up to his coaches. "Will you be riding with me today?"

"As a matter of fact, I'd like you to take me to Tidmouth." he ordered.

Gordon pulled away smoothly and Topham sat in the frontmost coach. They puffed happily along the beautiful countryside the Island was known for, passing farmers and small villages. Gordon arrived closer to on time at the next two stops, and at last reached Knapford right on time.

As Topham stepped off onto the platform, he was greeted by two conductors who began to show him the way to the controller's office. Just before leaving Gordon called out, "Off to see your Grandfather?"

Topham stopped and sighed. "No, I'm afraid he's passed away." Gordon wheeshed steam sadly and puffed off.

The trip had taken roughly an hour, and the two men showed him into his office. It was a nice room with a cluttered desk, a pair of cabinets set nearby, and a few pictures of old engines hung on the walls, Characteristic of his Grandfather. Such pictures included Topham in some, as he'd always loved this railway. There was one showing the old Mid-Sodor line with Duke, Stuart and Falcon, and one picture showed six engines in an old shed, including the three Topham now owned. Topham set at the desk and glanced over the papers.

"Alright." He said to himself. "Where do I start?"

It was the following day before he met the other trains. He slept at his new house for the first time and got up early with the trains. He pulled up in his smart blue car to the sheds the engines slept in, Tidmouth Sheds.

There, beside Gordon, were two other engines. One was blue like Gordon, but smaller, a mixed-traffic engine, and a number two on his tender, Edward. To the other side was another large engine, Green and numbered 3, Henry, who appeared to be eyeing the sky mournfully.

"Hello Sir Topham Hatt!" Edward called as he stepped out.

"Good morning Edward, and hello to all of you!" Topham replied.

"I think it might rain today, sir. Do I have to go out?" Henry asked.

"Henry, you make one more moan about the rain and your paint and I will probably lose my mind." Gordon snapped.

"Oi, My turn!" Topham cut in. "Yes Henry, you have to pull the Flying Kipper this evening, and I also believe you're due for the local this morning!"

"Sir, may I come out today too?" Edward asked.

Topham looked at the little old engine. He'd forgotten that the shortages had left Edward without a job, and it was mere sentiment Topham's Grandfather had even kept him around. Topham glanced back at Tidmouth yard, there was hardly any trucks, all just for Henry to pull later on in the week, but he felt bad for Edward, so he made up his mind. "You can take the Freight Train to Crovan's Gate, Edward."

The smaller blue engine tooted his whistle in excitement and his driver hopped aboard him, old Sidney Heaver, and set to starting his fire. Henry was still glancing at the sky, and Gordon's driver, Charlie Sand, was prepping the bigger blue engine as well. It wasn't much longer till the turntable ahead was set in his direction and the Express Engine pulled out of Tidmouth.

Topham got in his car and headed back to Knapford, and by the time he'd arrived, Gordon was blasting his whistle, ready to leave the station. Topham waved and headed into his office.

As the day went on, he saw Henry pull through, ever watching the sky. Topham recalled his Grandfather telling him that Henry was proud of his paint job, and that he was afraid the rain would ruin it.

The telephone rang, bringing Topham back out of memory. He picked up the phone.

"Hello? Sir Topham Hatt speaking!"

"_Mmrmrmeh?" _said the voice on the other end.

"Excuse me?" Topham responded, glancing at the phone. He then realized he had it upside down, so he quickly righted it. "What did you say?"

"_I said this is Gerald, from the Sodor South Railway."_ came the response. "_I hear you've taken over your Grandfather's line, I congratulate you!"_

"Why thank you Gerald, now what can I do for you?"

Gerald was a kind and older man who'd worked with his Grandfather well. Gerald owned a second Railway that ran parallel to the NWR's Main Line, going through Stations like Ballahoo, Kirk Ronan, and Brendam. Today, Gerald wasn't just calling for pleasantries, as usual, he had business as well. Today Old Gerald was calling regarding a new business plan, one that could increase the production on both their lines, and could drag poor Edward back into the working force.

"Are you sure, it's got a high price tag!" Topham asked.

"_But it's got such a huge return, our railways could be, well, really useful, as Bertram used to say!" _Topham shivered a little at the name of his Grandfather, who'd always said his name was one of power.

"I'll sleep on it Gerald, but thank you regardless." Topham finally decided.

"_Best of luck Topham, good day!"_ and with that, Gerald had hung up.

Topham set down the phone and looked at his charts. Gordon, Henry and Edward had been running the line well for years, even through the shortages of war and the hard times before it, but the line was in desperate need of new reasons to keep running, as politicians in London were getting edgier about the cost of the Railways. Topham looked back up to the walls, considering Gerald's proposal.

A large picture was in the middle. Topham had asked for it to be hung only yesterday as he'd entered the office for the first time. It was him, his brother Lowham, and his Grandfather atop an old yellow engine he'd forgotten the name of, but they were dirty, smiling, and free of care. As long as Topham lived, he wouldn't forget that day. It was the day after he and Lowham had run away from their Father at a tavern, and their mother had hardly cared that they'd done so. But as Bertram Hatt had accepted them that day and taken them to the Funfair, they'd rode on the engine, who'd been on loan to Sodor. They three had had a good time, and Grandfather had enrolled them both that day at a school in Vicarstown to make it official.

A light pattering on the rooftops brought Topham back to the present. He looked out the Station window to see the rain falling. He rolled his eyes, knowing Henry would probably do something silly, and so he stood, took his hat, and set back out to work.


	2. The Tank Engine

**Chapter 2:**

March 1962: The North Western Railway of the Island of Sodor has run well under the direction of Sir Topham Hatt for almost 10 years now. The trio of engines have worked hard, Passengers and Freight comes and goes, but as Gerald's proposal came to fruition, and the Line has become busier than ever, Topham has spent the past month searching for a new engine.

"A tank engine, good shunter, preferably sentient." Topham repeated, reading his ad aloud to his wife, sitting in their bedroom late one night. "Anything more I should add?"

"Perhaps the fact that it's unlikely that you'll find another sentient train in the world, and that you're crazy for putting an ad out about it." Lady Hatt laughed. "But other than that, it's fine!"

"I've run out of Ideas my dear." Topham sighed, dejectedly. "Gerald's no help, the new Diesel engines are too expensive for this, and I've got no response from any of the railways that are being shut down."

1962 was a dark year for railways. While Topham and Gerald had fought to keep their railways on Sodor preserved, a politician by the name of Beeching had published a paper that asked the government to cut down on the use of railways throughout Britain and the larger United Kingdom. While most railways followed suit, Sodor had been spared, for now.

"I'm just out of luck I suppose." Topham sighed, relaxing on their bed. A distant Whistle told him that the Flying Kipper was on the rails, due for Vicarstown. Jane Hatt sat down next to him, kissing him on the head reassuringly. She was beautiful for age, 38, and had put up with a lot of Tophams craziness, not to mention she'd managed to raise Charles Hatt amid it all. "I just wish I had another engine."

Topham went to bed that night with the ad still on his mind, roughly 10:30. Had he stayed up just another half an hour, he would have heard the horn of a steam ship docking in the shoddy harbord at Knapford. Then he would have heard the small whistle of a little train on board, sentient and sleep-whistling every so often. Put simpler, he would have hear the answer to his wish.

"Sir Topham? Sir Topham?" Topham woke with a start. It was still dark in the early Sudrian morning, and the butler was pounding on their bedroom door. "Sir Topham, you're needed in the office!"

"Wh- WHOA!" Topham fell out of the bed. Stumbling to his feet as his dazed wife sat up, he grabbed his hat and put it on before opening the door. "Hello there!"

"Ah, good morning Sir." The butler stifled half a laugh at the sight of him. "I'm sorry Sir, but a ship is trying to unload an engine here and they don't have the proper papers."

"Wait, a ship is trying to unload an Engine?" Topham's dazed brain caught on only to those words. "On my railway?"

"Yes Sir." the butler replied.

Topham dismissed him and closed the door. He turned back to his wife, who smiling as wide as he was. He quickly changed into his suit and ran out the door, practically bounding to his car.

When he arrived to the docks, he was beyond excited. There, on the unloading ramp of a big steamer, was a tank engine, with a face. It was painted dark green with the letters LBSC written on the side tanks. It was smaller than Edward, it had six short, stumpy wheels, a short, stumpy boiler, and a short, stumpy dome. He mentally reprimanded himself for the bizarre description, and approached an arguing pair of sailors.

"Good morning Gentlemen!" Topham boomed. "What seems to be the trouble here?"

"Ah Sir Topham Hatt, can you help us here?" The Dock manager asked. He seemed exasperated and as if he hadn't slept well. "This boy doesn't seem to understand, and I'm late for breakfast with my father, good bye!"

"Ah blow 'im." the sailor spat. "Look, ma'be you can 'elp. This 'ere engine 'as been sent from the LBSC for scrap, can ye just get 'im off me ship?"

"Scrap?" Topham asked. "Why, it seems to be perfect! Where is it off to?"

"Ah don't know and Ah don't care." the sailor snapped. "If yer complaining' 'bout it's condition, tell it to Beeching, otha' wise it's (The sailor now indicated a paper he had) 'due fo' any ol' scrapyard on the Isle of Man!"

"What?" Topham replied, stunned at the mistake.

"Would ye just take the train!" the Sailor shouted, waving for his men to unload the engine quickly.

"Oh gladly!" Topham finished. The sailor stormed off and a crane known as Big Mickey unloaded the engine. Topham watched excitedly as the engine touched the ground with a clunk and the sun peeked over the distant seas. The steamship let out a blast of it's horn that seemed almost impatient, and prepared to leave.

Topham approached the engine, who was asleep even through it all. Topham stepped inside it's cab, discovering it clean and well kept. As he got back out, a whistle from down the line told him Edward was on his way for his first train of the day. Topham looked the sleeping engine in the face. He knew it wouldn't awaken till it's fire was started. As cruel as the Beeching Cuts could be, Sentient engines had been drugged before being scrapped.

Another whistle and Edward pulled into the harbor. "What have we here, sir?" He asked with an excited twinkle in his eye.

"Edward, please push this engine to the sheds while I find a new driver." Topham ordered, barely stifling childish delight. "He'll be taking over the jobs in the yard as soon as he's awake!"

Edward smiled as he pushed the engine away. As the sun brightened the engine's paint, Topham realized he'd have to paint the engine something more appropriate for his railway. As the two engines blurred in the distance, the Edward's blue paint looked good for the tank engine, and Topham knew what number he'd become. The only missing number on the railway, the number 1.

"Gordon! Gordon did you hear?!" Screamed Henry.

"GAH!" Gordon the Express engine had been asleep in the station of Vicarstown, waiting for the next call of the express. Henry was charging in from inland Sodor, pulling a load from the Quarry company. "Hear what you galloping sausage?"

"Temper temper Gordon!" Henry chided. "We all know who the Galloping Sausage is afterall."

"Henry, have you only come to interrupt my nap or do you have something to say?" Gordon snapped.

"There's a new engine on our line!" Henry responded.

"Finally!" Gordon shouted, surprising a few passengers and passer-bys. "Heavens, tell me it's a tank engine for the yards?"

"It is!" Henry replied. "An LBSCR E2 tank engine, but with the extended side tanks. He arrived last night on a ship and Hatt is saving him from scrap! I saw Edward pushing him into the sheds, he was quite asleep."

"I don't care it's make and model, it'll just be nice to have someone to push around again since Glynn disappeared!" Gordon chortled.

"Oh be nice to him." Henry snapped. "The Beeching Cuts must have scared him something awful, probably everyone he knew is gone."

Gordon sighed. The Beeching Cuts hurt him too. His family was not small by any means, and he knew a portion of his brothers were doomed. "Fair enough, old square wheels." He sighed, and a whistle blew, telling him the Wild Nor' Wester was bound once more for Knapford.

"Stupid trucks…" Henry grumbled. "Call me square wheels… YOUR MOM HAS SQUARE WHEELS!" Several parents glared harshly as the big green blunder screamed these words. "Sorry."

As the sun was setting later that day, Topham was on board Edward, up in his cab beside his driver, Sidney Heaver.

"Are you sure about the tank engine Mr. Hatt?" Sidney asked. He was an old friend and thus one of the few who commonly addressed Topham without his proper title. "I mean, doesn't this mean we've kind of stolen it?"

"But the LBSC was scrapping him, they didn't want it, why can't we have it?" Topham replied. "Sidney, you and I both know this is a huge opportunity, and Bob Hardy has even agreed to drive him!"

"Oh I know we need a new engine, and… did you say Bob Hardy?" Sidney asked

"What's wrong with Bob?" Topham snapped. "He's a good worker and Jem Cole suggested him!"

"I mean, he's fine… when he's sober." Sidney laughed. "But I think it's been a decade since he's driven an engine."

"You mean old Alan?" Edward called back.

"Yes I mean Alan!" Sidney replied. "You remember Bob Hardy, don't you Edward?"

"All too well Sidney!" Edward replied. "That night he took a bucket of paint to my face and wrote 'Old Eddie' on my boiler will never leave me!"

"Alright, so i'll get a different driver, but Thomas-" Topham was cut off by Sidney

"You've already named the engine?" He asked

"Well, not officially yet, but-" Topham was cut off once again.

"Don't name the engine if you have to let him go sir!" Edward called. "You'll become far too attached!"

"He's right though." Sidney sighed. "You both are right. I'm not sure whether you should keep this engine or just send him to the Isle of Man like he was meant for, or send him back to the LBSC or… I just don't know Hatt."

"Tomorrow is a new day." Topham stated. "And regardless of if he's to go away in the end or to stay in the yards, I'm waking him up tomorrow."

Edward now pulled gently into Tidmouth station, a smaller station used mainly by the drivers, conductors and Sir Topham Hatt. And he got off the blue engine without another word to engine or driver.

"He's got trouble coming his way Edward." Sidney sighed as they started off again.

"Yes, but he's a Hatt." Edward sighed. "And we both know he's capable of whatever happens."

"Well said, Eddie." Sidney laughed, using the old nickname Edward hated.

Edward and Sidney laughed till his fire was out and Sidney drove away. Gordon was already fast asleep in the sheds, Henry was coming later in the night, and the subject of the day sat in the shed beside Edward, the dark green LBSC paint glinting gently in the moonlight as the engine slept peacefully. Edward looked the little engine in the face, and found the little engine was smiling, almost as if he knew he was destined to stay, so long as Topham reigned over the NWR. Edward found it poetic, and just before he himself fell asleep, he whispered to the little engine:

"Goodnight Thomas."


	3. Cheeky Little Engine

**Chapter 3:**

Every morning on the Island of Sodor started the same for the engines. The firelighter comes, prepping their fires before the sun rises. It's never easy to wake up, but the warmth always keeps them ready till they're needed for their jobs.

The Firelighter's name was Ivo Hugh. He was a kind young man from Crosby who'd grown up around the railway. Today, he had a slight change in his schedule, meaning he had to get up just a bit earlier, to light the fire of the new engine.

"Oh? Wh-where am I?" The new engine mumbled as Ivo started him up. "Oh that feels good, thanks Vi- Wait, who are you?"

"Good morning!" Ivo said. "M'names Ivo Hugh, and you are on the Island of Sodor!"

"Sodor?" he asked. "I was supposed to go to Man!"

"Well you're here now! And Sir Hatt asked me to light you just like the other three!" Ivo jumped down from the fully awakened engine and moved to the next one, Edward. "Now pardon me as I do so, uh… didn't catch your name?"

"My name?" the engine replied. "I uh… I don't have one. They called just me 67 over on the LBSC, do I have a name here?"

"Oh, you're awake now?" Edward moaned as Ivo lit his fire, stoking it slightly as Edward shivered awake. "I think you're name is Thomas, that's what Hatt was thinking."

"Ah, well, good morning Thomas!" Ivo said, prodding Edward's coals even more, a crispy glow coming from his cab.

As Edward's boiler began to bubble, Ivo moved through an empty shed toward Henry. He laughed to himself as he recognized the pattern he was moving in, and was surprised to see a certain blue car approaching the Sheds as Henry opened his eyes. Sir Topham Hatt stepped out of his car even before any of the drivers had arrived, and, with a smile and deep breath, he approached the prospective number 1 engine.

"Good morning! Welcome to the North-Western Railway of Sodor!" He boomed to the new engine. "How are you this morning?"

"Uh, good?" Thomas mumbled. "Um, who are you?"

"My name is Sir Topham Hatt!" Topham replied. "I am the controller of this Railway, and you are to work here as my new engine!"

"Alright, what's my job?" He asked.

"He's a shunter, right Sir?" Henry asked, Ivo having fully awakened him now. "We certainly need a shunter."

"Correct Henry." Topham replied. "You are to be a Shunter here in this yard, preparing the trains of trucks and coaches for these other three engines to take out. When they come back, you'll shunt the rolling stock back into their proper sidings. Now, do you have a name?"

"Uh…" the engine wheeshed. "I think my name is Thomas, isn't that what you wanted?"

"Um… that, That's exactly what I was thinking!" Topham beamed, believing he'd accurately guessed the engine's name. "Thomas, your driver will be here soon, for now, i'd like you to get to know these other engines."

"Hi Thomas." Henry said. "My name's Henry, and I am green!"

"Oh really Henry, It's not as if he couldn't tell." Gordon growled, steaming nicely now that Ivo had him ready. "My name is Gordon, Little Thomas, and I am the fastest, and I pull the Express, so don't give me any trouble, I'm an important engine!"

"I see." Said Thomas, who had basically taken these comments as a challenge. "And you?"

"I'm Edward, and I'm happy to show you around if you have any trouble." Edward replied. "These two aren't the nicest, but they're great when you get to know them." As he said this, a large, red van rolled up to the sheds as Topham pulled away. Three men got out of the van and moved toward the trio of bigger engines.

"I see." Thomas said, repeating himself. "Well, who's my driver?"

"Actually, i'm curious, who is Thomas' driver?" Henry asked.

"Bob Hardy." Edward stated, desperately holding back any sign of disagreement.

The other engines, however, weren't. Henry busted up laughing and Gordon rolled his eyes. "Oh the in_dig_nity!" He bellowed, powerfully emphasizing the last word. "Bob is not fit for this railway!"

"Well, not anymore than you." Edward snickered. "Don't worry Thomas, Bob is a good guy."

"When he's sober." Charlie Sand mumbled, pulling himself into Gordon.

"Och, 'e's ah good drivar'." Henry's Driver, Owen Bailey commented on the conversation.

"Don't worry Thomas, Bob will take care of you." Sidney Heaver assured the tank engine. "And yea, he's on his way, but we did catch him at the pub last night, so who knows when!"

And with that, the three big engines made their way out Tidmouth.

"Well." Thomas sighed to himself. "That was… an experience. But not any worse than the old crew…" He wheeshed quietly to himself as Henry whistled in the distance.

A bizarre putt-putt noise reached his ...ears(?) and he glanced over to see a little white car pull up beside the red van. A single man stepped out of it, and Thomas was unsure if this was really his driver. The other engine had suggested him to be a drunk, and probably a fool. But this man was walking erectly, driving correctly, and looked completely normal. Brown hair and eyes, and a clean driver's uniform, Bob Hardy approached Thomas calmly. "So you're the new engine?" He asked. "Well, let's get to work, Thomas, and yes, I am your driver, Bob."

"Why do they all think you're a drunk Bob?" Thomas asked as Bob hopped aboard.

"One little accident." Bob sighed. "Don't ever mess up Thomas, I promise they will never, ever let you live it down."

And on that foreboding note, Thomas and Bob puffed across the turntable, off to the yard for work on the NWR.

Noon was nap time for the Express Engine. While Charlie Sand was off to lunch in Knapford, Gordon had been put in the sidings by Knapford Station. He was sleeping peacefully in the noonday sun, thinking about the long train he had that afternoon when there was a sudden shriek of a whistle just beside him. "WAH!" He shouted, waking up once more.

"Wake up lazy Bones!" Thomas chided. "Why don't you do some real work like me?" Though he was pulling a line of trucks Henry had just brought, Gordon found this highly offensive.

"Why you cheeky little~!" Gordon didn't finish his insult, as the only one who could hear him now was the breakvan, who stuck his tongue out at him as Thomas' train rolled away. Gordon growled and tried to go back to sleep, but found himself instead thinking about how to get back at the little green tank engine. When Charlie returned and Gordon was pulled into the station to ready his next run on the Wild Nor' Wester, he whispered to the passengers as they prepared to board. He told them to get on quickly, as he had a plan for Thomas, as surprise, as he told the children.

Thomas pushed the Express coaches into place behind Gordon, and paused as he waited for the shunter to uncouple him from them. But as the Passengers scurried onto the train, and the shunter struggled to make it to the back of the train, Gordon blew his whistle and took off. "Whoa, HEY! HEY!" Thomas shouted as Gordon pulled out too quick for the dazed shunter to uncouple Thomas. And off they went.

It was quite a ride. Any passenger from Sodor can tell you about Gordon's speed, living up to the name of the Express. But for an unfortunate tank engine still attached to the back, it was no joyride. A brass band playing in Thomas' head as his wheels spun faster than he could ever pull his own self, they thundered through the countryside. Passing stations that the express doesn't stop for, Thomas screamed "HELP!" But no one could. Bob, while irked at the time they were losing for this, couldn't help but laugh from inside his poor engine's cab. As they rumbled over the Viaduct near Wellsworth, Thomas moaned, "Oh dear, I've got to rest!"

"Wellsworth is near, Thomas!" Bob called at this remark. "The Express stops there, you'll be alright!"

Luckily enough, Bob was right. Gordon slowed past the viaduct and finally came to rest at Wellsworth, where Bob hopped out and uncoupled Thomas himself. They pulled into a siding and spun gently on the turntable, Thomas unable to say a word in exhaustion. "Well little Thomas?" Gordon boomed, breathing almost normally for an engine who'd pulled a train at such speed. "Do you see what hard work really is?" He laughed heartily as Thomas's turntable stopped and he sighed in relief.

"Gordon, let me teach you some Latin." Thomas snipped. "_Abi in malam rem_!"

"What?" Gordon spluttered, but Thomas just sat beneath the water tower smugly, filling his tanks.

And as Thomas puffed back to Tidmouth as afternoon sun shone brightly. Passing back over the Viaduct, he mumbled to Bob. "Remind me not to mess with Gordon."

That night, Topham and Jane Hatt sat in their bedroom. While Topham had avoided the subject the night before, Lady Hatt wanted to discuss Thomas. "It's practically theft." She sighed. "You've stolen an engine, not from the LBSC, but from the scrapyards on Man."

"I haven't stolen anything." Topham returned. "It's like they were throwing the engine away. Are you thieving the trash can when you find a perfectly good object inside it? No, as it's owner has disowned it. The LBSC disowned Thomas, so now he's mine."

Jane sighed and sat down on the bed. Topham went into the bathroom and sat down, not because he needed to, but because he didn't want to see his wife's apparent disagreement. The debate had been tearing him apart all day. He'd heard of Thomas and Gordon's adventure from earlier in the day, and he'd been told by Sidney Heaver how Bob Hardy had come to like Thomas, just as he like Edward. Topham wanted nothing more right now than to keep the tank engine on his railway, but the doubts were getting to him. Had he stolen the engine? Would he be forced to return Thomas? Send him to be scrapped? He didn't want that, and he wasn't sure he had the money to buy Thomas either. So as he sat there, alone in his bathroom, he was torn apart by his inner demons.

Thomas, meanwhile, was enjoying the sheds. His fire was cooling down, and Bob had gone home for the night, but he was still awake. The sky was much clearer above Sodor than on the Mainland, and he was watching the stars. Though clouds were forming off the coast, probably bringing rain for the weekend, he was happy where he was. Edward and Gordon were asleep already, but Henry was pulling the Flying Kipper tonight. Thomas could hear his distant whistle as his eyes began to droop, and he looked out at the ocean. Tidmouth was a hilly town, and the sheds were placed on a plateau of sorts, so he had a beautiful view of the sea. He thought of back home, where he'd been told he wasn't useful anymore. He knew fully well he'd been sent to the scrapyard, but clearly he'd been saved!

Or hadn't he? Was he dead? Was Sodor where engines went when they died?

His eyes popped open suddenly. He'd been awoken, apparently having fallen asleep thinking about death. Henry was backing slowly into the shed beside him.

"Hello again Thomas." Henry whispered as he came to a stop.

"Henry, you smell like fish." Thomas commented.

"Thank you." Henry replied. "I've just taken the Kipper after all." He paused and looked at the sky. "Beautiful night tonight, eh?"

"You know, it was never this nice on the Mainland. Even the engines weren't the same…" And Thomas and Henry spent the next hour just talking about Thomas's past. When they at last fell asleep near midnight, Thomas felt rather at ease on this new railway, regardless of his job or past.


	4. Thomas of the NWR

**Chapter 4:**

It had been three days since Thomas had begun work on the Island of Sodor, and he'd adapted well. After his little mishap with Gordon and the express, he'd set rather dutifully to work, simply shunting and pushing the cars around in the yard.

"Thomas, you've been a really useful engine!" Sir Topham Hatt told him that evening. Thomas didn't question, but had wondered why he always talked to the engines like they were children. "So, it's time we painted you properly for your job here on my railway. You are to puff over to that shed there, and the painters will be working on you through the night." Topham pointed to a shed on the sidings where a few workmen were setting up.

"Oh?" Thomas exclaimed. "Well, thank you Sir! What color will I be?"

"Go and see for yourself Thomas!" Topham beamed.

Thomas laughed and puffed off the turntable, pulling into the siding just as Edward returned from work. "Good evening Thomas!" He called as Thomas stopped.

"Hi Edward!" Thomas called back. "I'm going to be painted!"

"Good luck!" Edward replied, then looked around the sheds. Henry was just waking up to pull his last night train, though not the Flying Kipper, and Owen Bailey was washing his tender as he did. "Quick washdown before you go Henry?"

"Ah, yea." Henry sighed. "Just trying to look sharp for those mainland ladies!"

"Something like that…" Edward scoffed.

"Och, ye'r jus wantin' to look sharp fer ye'self, ye haughty great engine." Bailey, a scot, mocked. "Silly brute!"

"Don't worry Henry, there's no rain tonight!" Edward replied.

"What's rain got to do with this?" Thomas shouted from the siding. "Rain can't hurt your paint job!"

"I KNOW THAT!" Henry shouted, fully awake now. "For the love of Godred Crovan, I stopped in the tunnel for a few minutes and I pay for it for the rest of my life!"

"That's what happens to naughty engines on my railway!" Topham boomed, the engines having forgotten he was there. "Tell Thomas the story Edward."

"No, no need, I see what's happening, and I need some rest!" Thomas replied. "Goodnight Edward, Goodnight Henry!"

"Ah, well Goodnight Thomas." Edward sighed as he pulled back into his shed. "Goodbye Henry!" Henry was now in a huffy mood, having been reminded of his most embarrassing moment yet. Edward quietly steamed, and the smell of paint reached his nose as he began to drift off, curious of what color he'd find the little tank engine in the morning.

A shrieking whistle shocked Edward awake the next morning. Though Ivo Hugh had yet to light his fire, he was fully awake the second time Thomas blasted his whistle. Gordon and Henry grumbled as they were awoken, but Edward focused just enough to see the tank engine in the early light. "How do I look gents?" Thomas asked.

Like Edward and Gordon, he was NWR blue, with the red stripes, and a bright yellow number 1 on his side tanks where the letters LBSC had been. Henry subtly smirked as he remained the only green engine, and Gordon just went back to sleep. "Lovely Thomas, but it's a bit early."

"Not too early!" Ivo shouted as he pulled up in his mother's little car. "Funny to see you all awake before I even arrive!"

"Gah!" Gordon grumbled, giving in to the morning. Thomas laughed and backed up, only to run into a truck and ram it through the buffers in the yard. "Thomas, do you know what happens to naughty engines on this island?"

"Ooh!" Ivo shouted excitedly from inside Henry's cab. "Are you going to tell him about Smudger?"

"No, I was going to talk about Henry, but that's a good story too, so yes, I'll do Smudger." Gordon sighed.

"Right, who's Smudger then?" Thomas peeped.

"Smudger worked on the Mid-Sodor railway, back before it shut down." Gordon began. "This railway was a narrow-gauge railway, for smaller engines. Smudger worked with a couple other old engines, who were always reliable and on time, but they were narrow-gauge so we don't care about them."

"Skarloey was a narrow-gauge." Edward chided.

"Shut it Eddie." Gordon growled. "Anyway, Smudger was a bit of a jerk. He enjoyed making messes, being late, and he came off the rails often." Gordon stopped, pondering the story for a bit. "I've just remembered Duke. He was one of the other Narrow-Gauge engines, and he was always getting after Smudger for coming off the rails, and Smudger would always reply: 'Can it, Dukey!' And so after some time, the controller of their railway got tired of it, and so he took Smudger off the rails one day."

"Is that it?" Thomas nagged.

"Nope!" Gordon snapped. "He took Smudger and turned him into a generator, telling him, 'now you'll _really _be useful!' and they left them in a shed behind a hill. The end!"

Ivo was now sitting on Edward's buffer beam, having lit all of their fires, and was laughing at the story's finish. "You know, that's not quite how it happened, and you make it sound like the controller was a jerk!"

"Well, it's basically an engine fairy-tale." Charlie Sand muttered, the four drivers now having made it to the sheds.

"Now gents, you know my name comes from that controller!" Ivo laughed. "My Grandfather, Ivo Hugh, was the Mid-Sodor Railway controller!"

At this, the other three drivers busted up laughing, while Sand just got on board Gordon. While Ivo bid goodbye and drove away, Bob admired the new paintwork of his engine. "Looking sharp Thomas!" Bob laughed. "And it's very interesting to see that you've been given the number 1!"

"Why?" Thomas asked. "It's logical, considering there's already 2,3, and 4!"

"No, it's not that." Bob replied. "It's just that the last number 1 was one of Hatt's old coffee pots!"

"Topham's coffee pots?" Thomas asked, confused at the thought of Sir Topham Hatt writing a number one on a pot of coffee.

"Not like the actual pot!" Bob laughed. "I mean a prototype engine called a Coffee Pot."

There was a rumbling noise and a splutter, and Thomas and Bob looked over to see Edward, spewing smoke from his funnel and shaking. "Are you alright Edward?" Thomas asked, very worried for the kind old engine.

"Shite!" Sidney Heaver shouted. "Looks like you've broken down Edward!"

"REALLY?!" Edward spluttered. "I hadn't noticed! Would you like to state something else utterly obvious?!"

"Nope. I'm good."

Bob hopped out and moved over to Edward, checking him over with Sidney. After a short time, Edward appeared to be steaming normally, but the smoke still lingered in the air and Edward continued to shudder. "I think you might be able to get Edward running now." Bob said, looking around Edward's chassis. "But you might want to work him a little less today."

"Yard work is real easy if you want my jobs!" Thomas offered.

"Thank you Thomas." Edward sighed, shaking slightly still. "Oh, but I've go to take a train to Vicarstown this morning!"

"Can you take care of that?" Sidney asked. "I'll work this out with Hatt if you can."

Bob and Thomas happily agreed, and steamed quickly through the yard. Bob knew the line well enough to help Thomas down the Main line, and they quickly assembled the train.

But what Thomas didn't understand was that trucks on Sodor were different. They too were sentient, and seem to live only to bring hell to the engines. Thomas had only worked with them in small amounts, only lining them up in the yard for the big engines to take away. But now, the trucks had their chance, and they were going to take advantage of the silly new tank engine.

All started well for Thomas. He took his long line of trucks full of various goods and pulled them out of Knapford yards. Gordon blew his whistle as he passed, and Thomas smirked, proud of himself for getting to take a train on the main line. They made it out of Knapford smoothly and puffed along the line for a good distance before the trucks enacted their plan.

Between the towns of Wellsworth and Maron is a hill. This hill is large, and is most commonly used by passenger trains, dating back to when Gordon was the sole passenger train, thus it's been named by the engines 'Gordon's hill'. Gordon's hill is notorious for getting engines in trouble. The track on it runs East-West, and the East slope is the easy side. Though a hard hill from either side, engines commonly get stuck coming up the West side, or end up going far too fast coming down it. Gordon himself often needs a push from Edward on this hill, and engines owned by Gerald have crashed coming off it before.

But today, Thomas and Edward's train approached it. Coming from the west, Thomas was proud to push up the steeper side without help, and was just coming to the stop at the top when the Trucks pushed, with all their combined strength, and down the east side the train went.

"Stop! Stop!" Thomas shouted, but the demonic trucks laughed and pushed on.

But the trucks didn't give a crap. They pushed on, and though individually they had only a little strength and control, they could make a massive push in numbers. And so Thomas was forced on and on, charging through Maron and Cronk without stopping, desperately shouting for help at any signal and station.

A signalman at Maron phoned ahead to Kellsthorpe, where the signalman there set the points to a long, dead-end siding. But until then, Thomas careened down the track, helpless.

Sir Topham Hatt was visiting Gerald at Kellsthorpe, discussing the poor state of Gerald's line atop a black engine who seemed quite bored. Their conversation was interrupted as they heard a dull noise from down the line. "Shush, shush." Gerald shushed Topham. "Do you hear that?" It was quiet at first, but as the sound grew louder, it became clear that it was a scream for help, right up until they saw Thomas shoot around the corner, forced along by the trucks. "Ah, that's what it is." Gerald laughed.

"~AAAAAAAAAAAAA~" Thomas continued to scream, screaming loud as he moved onto the siding, and just as loud as his brakes lit with sparks as Bob desperately tried to stop him.

"Cor, what an Engine!" Gerald laughed. "I think you've got something to say to him Topham?"

"GAH!" Thomas shouted, smashing into the buffers at the end of the line. The trucks bounces slightly and Thomas breathed heavily. As for his time on the main line, he was two-for-two on speed-related accidents. "What in th~" Thomas began.

"~e name of King Godred Crovan are you doing here Thomas!?" Sir Topham Hatt boomed, simultaneously ending Thomas' sentence.

"I, er- brought Edward's trucks sir!" Thomas laughed sheepishly. "They, uh, pushed me."

"You've got a lot to learn about trucks Thomas!" Hatt sighed. "If you want to pull your own trains, you've got to learn how to take care of these cars!"

"Why don't you yell at the trucks?" Gerald asked, bemused at the affair.

"Because the trucks won't listen!" Topham replied, exasperated, as Bob got out and checked Thomas' breaks.

"And your engines will?" Gerald laughed. "Alright, don't worry Topham, we'll work out that deal tomorrow, me and James have to go now!"

"Finally! You boring old men!" The black engine moaned as Gerald mounted him. "Goodbye, silly little tank engine!"

"How rude." Thomas muttered as he puffed away.

"Look Thomas." Topham sighed. "I've heard about Edward's problem, so I think that, while we wait for the parts to fix Edward, you both will work the yard, and take turns pulling the trains, okay?"

"Yes sir!" Thomas and Bob said simultaneously.

As Topham got in his car back at the station, he smiled as he watched Thomas puff away. He turn the key of his car and pulled away, nearly hitting Tom Tipper the mailman. "Sorry!" He called out his window, but Tom jumped out and grabbed a letter from his van.

"Wait Sir!" Tom called. "I've got a letter here for you!"

Tom handed Topham the letter, it was marked with a stamp from London, and the return address was the head office of the LBSC. Topham gulped and opened the letter as Tom drove away, his mail van sputtering along the road.

_Dear Sir Topham Hatt,_

_Recently the LBSC attempted to dispose of an engine on the Isle of Man, but mistakes were made and an angry sea captain left the engine on your island, which has apparently begun work on your line. While we are not demanding the engine back, we are asking for the monetary value this engine's scrap would have provided._

"Oh dear…" Topham sighed.


	5. Ballad of the Rain Engine

**Episode 5:**

Gerald died March 26th, 1962. The deal he and Topham had been working on was his will, and what would happen to his section of the Sudrian railway when he did pass away. Gerald's will gave Topham the South Sodor Railway, it's last remaining engine, and enough money to pay the LBSC for Thomas. Gerald's family was only his wife and son, whom Topham knew well and tried to give them the money, but Mrs. Gerald insisted, and Topham took the railway as his son was disinterested.

"The man lived and died doing good deeds." Topham sighed to his wife on the evening of April 15th to his wife. "But his railway was left in disarray from it. He gave too much, unable to keep enough for himself. An unfortunately noble flaw."

"He sold the main line?" Jane asked. She was referring to the SSR main line that had run from Vicarstown to Brendam. Gerald had apparently sold it to keep his engine, James, and had prepared for the branchlines to reach to the NWR Main line.

"Indeed, and left me to pay for the extension to my line!" Topham laughed. "Ah well, characteristic of him, so I shall."

"And how is James doing with the other engines?" Jane asked.

"Well, you know how he was a black engine, just like British railways would paint their Mixed-traffic engines?"

"Yes, I don't like it."

"Well neither did I. So I painted him red, using old paint bought for Eagle!"

Meanwhile, back at Tidmouth sheds, there was annoyance in the air. James had indeed been painted Red, a new and bright color for the NWR, and was none the worse for it.

"Don't you just love the color red?" He asked the other engines. "This red is beautiful, and it shines like a sunset!" James was a mixed-traffic engine, the same size and similar shape to Edward, and he'd been repainted that day, but he hadn't stopped being proud of it, ranting all day long to any of the four engines who would listen.

"Yes James." Edward replied as kindly as he could, but even his patience was wearing thin.

"And the number 5!" He exclaimed. "The biggest number yet! Beat that Gordon?"

"Oh give me a stick and I will." Gordon snapped, having much less subtlety than Edward.

"Heavens James!" Thomas exclaimed suddenly. "I've never met an engine as haughty as you!"

"Neither have I!" Henry exclaimed. At this, Gordon and Edward laughed hard and heartily, their laughs echoing through the town of Tidmouth, utterly confusing James and Thomas. "Do you have something to say?" Henry growled.

"Oh Henry!" Gordon boomed. "He's bad, but at least he'll go out in the rain!" A light came on at a house nearby before Henry could form a response, and the engines quieted as an angry parent came outside and glared at the engines, but retreated into his house and turned out the lights.

"What's this rain joke I keep hearing?" Thomas asked after a few tense minutes of silence.

"_Once an engine attached to a train…_" Edward began

"Don't rhyme it." Henry growled.

"_...was afraid of a few drops of rain! He stopped in a tunnel, and squeaked through his funnel, and wouldn't come out again!_" Edward laughed. "You've got to give Sidney credit for that old rhyme!"

"Yes, I do recall that rainy day." Gordon sighed sentimentally. "You were pulling the local, I think it was 1954, and the rain began to fall!"

_1954: Henry the great green engine was puffing nicely along the track beneath a cloudy sky. As rain began to tumble down hard, Henry decided he'd had enough for that day. As he reached a tunnel near the Ballahoo branchline, he stopped. Despite the protests of the passengers and his driver, he refused to move. "We've got to get home! It's late!" Were the cries of the passengers, but Henry sat stubbornly in the tunnel, not moving in the slightest. Sir Topham Hatt arrived in his car soon, and he told Henry to move out. The passengers had tried in vain to push Henry out of the tunnel-_

"And Hatt was all, 'My doctor has forbidden me to push!" Henry snickered.

"That sounds about right." Thomas laughed.

_-and so Hatt called Eagle to try and push Henry out._

"Eagle?" James asked.

"Eagle was an engine that came to the island from time to time, along with Alan and Candle!" Henry sighed. "Good old mates, I wonder where they are? After all they used to work here, but Bertram had to sell them to the GWR…"

"Anyway, on with the story!" Edward called.

_When Henry had refused to move either way, Topham made up his mind. "Fine, if you want to stay in that tunnel, you can! Forever! We're taking away your rails and blocking you in!"_

"Gordon that Hatt voice is just…" Edward groaned.

"Beautiful? Accurate?"

"Awful." Thomas answered.

"I was going to say something a little nicer, but yea." Edward laughed.

_And so they did. Workmen moved quickly and took out the rails while Eagle pulled away the coaches and passengers. Then, where the rails had been, they build brick walls on either side of the tunnel, keeping Henry in for good._

_Henry remained there for about a month. His steam was long gone, so he couldn't whistle, and he could barely speak loud enough to be heard. So Gordon and Edward worked the line, taking Henry's jobs with ease._

"Bull!" Henry shouted, interrupting the story again. "Gordon was always complaining about taking my freight cars!"

_But the day arrived that Henry would be brought out. Gordon was pulling the express nicely, but as he approached the Ballahoo tunnel, he was brought to a screeching halt from a busted pipe. His steam ran short just beside Henry, who mocked him incessantly. _

"Edward, don't make things up!" Gordon barked.

"He's not, I was there too you know." Henry sighed.

_Gordon was crippled (by bad coal and no fault of his own), and Edward is a little engine, and cannot pull the express like Gordon._

"Harsh." Edward muttered.

_So Hatt looked to Henry at last. "I think you've learned your lesson Henry, so out you shall come!" For some reason they opened the back end of the tunnel, so Henry had to back up to get the coaches, and so Edward and Henry pushed the Express on to Vicarstown, where Henry had a heroes welcome, and everyone was so sorry they'd ever blocked him up!_

"Whos making things up now Gordon?" Edward asked.

"Henry, you were a shock to see, and not in a good way!" Gordon snapped.

_And Sir Topham Hatt told Henry he could be repainted properly, so long as he'd stop worrying about the rain and would just get to work. _

_And so the bright green engine came back to work on the NWR._

_And he was welcomed gratefully by Gordon and Edward._

_And no-one ever laughed at him because they all understood his plight._

_Just kidding they all laughed at him all the time._

"Oh my goodness can you all just pick a story?" Thomas growled. "Clearly there's some discrepancy here!"

"Bright green engine my tender." Gordon snapped. "Henry, you were painted blue for a year, just to prove that you were just like us!"

"Everyone understood your plight?" Edward wheeshed. "This story is notable not only because it's a good moral for younger engines, but because this was the most ridiculous and extreme case of prideful engines _in the history_ of sentient vehicles!"

"WOULD YOU STUPID TRAINS SHUT IT?!" Came a roaring voice from the town. "I JUST GOT ME CHILD TO SLEEP, AND YOU KEEP ARGUING ALL NIGHT LONG!"

A heavy slam of a door later, the five engines were all quiet. "You know, that was quite entertaining, all things considered." Thomas whispered after another tense silence.

"James is asleep." Edward sighed. "Do you think we bored him to sleep or do you think he got the message?"

"Why do you have to make a moral out of my life?" Henry whined.

"Because you're a ridiculous engine and it's a very relatable story." Gordon sighed. "Now, I think with that bed-time story over, little tank engines should be going to sleep."

"Oh yes, make a crack at me Gordon." Thomas snipped.

The next day, Thomas and Edward were working around the yard at Knapford. Edward had been mended, and was about to leave with a freight train, but he had to wait for James, who was bringing another train from Brendam. As he sat waiting, he could hear the distant whistle of the bright red engine, and James quickly approached.

"Hello Edward!" He said cheerfully, yet as if he was hiding something. He pulled gently past Edward, who caught a whiff of what he was trying to hide.

"James, do I smell smoke?" Edward asked.

"No!" James replied. "Certainly not! Why would I be on fire? My brakes are fine!"

"Your brakes?" Edward asked. "What's wrong with them?"

"Nothing! I just said that!" James pulled away quickly and screeched horribly as he braked.

Thomas pulled up, shunting the last truck to Edward's train. "Wheesh!" He exclaimed. "What's that smell? Is there a fire somewhere? And I don't mean in your boiler, that's something else!"

"James mentioned his brakes, keep an eye on him Thomas, alright?" Edward confided.

"Ah, let him crash." Thomas joked. "If his paint gets messed up HEY even better!"

"No, I'm serious Thomas." Edward replied. "Please make sure he really doesn't catch fire or crash."

"Alright alright." Thomas sighed. "I get it!"

Edward chuffed away after that, and Thomas returned to shunting. As he prepared a line of coaches for James to take to Kirk Ronan, one of the coaches smiled at him. "Hello?" He asked it.

"You're a very nice engine." She replied. It was girl! Thomas didn't know how to talk to girls, he really felt like a little kid now. "Thomas, correct?"

"Yea, who are you?" He replied.

"I'm Clarabel." She responded. "And up front is my sister Annie. We're from the SSR, but now that Gerald's gone, I guess we're with you now."

"Ah, I'm sorry." Thomas replied, stopping as he had shunted the coaches into place now. "Goodbye!"

"Goodbye Thomas!" Clarabel called, and he chuffed away.

He looked around. Most of the rolling stock, although sentient, never really spoke to the engines. There was the truck leaders, like Fred Pelhay and SCRuffey, who teased the engines incessantly, and a nice breakvan named Toad that Thomas had met, but none of the coaches seemed to talk or care about the engines, save the Wild Nor' Wester coaches who adored Gordon like fangirls. He was curious what other friends he'd make amongst them when he heard Henry's whistle blow, waiting for another line of trucks. He whistled in response and went to work.


	6. Trouble with Trains

**Chapter 6:**

It was July, and James and Thomas were working nicely on the NWR. Thomas and Edward took turns in the yard and pulling freight trains, Henry took the bigger freight trains and sometimes slow passenger trains, Gordon almost exclusively pulled the express, and James pulled Passenger and Freight to and from the former SSR branchlines.

The railway was going nicely, and summer was approaching now, for it was May. But the winds blew strong, and there was delays aplenty.

"If Henry would hurry up, I might get to Ballahoo on time!" James growled at Knapford one day.

"Silly Henry, always getting stuck or lost." Gordon grumbled, pulling into place after another express run. "I never get lost though, I know the line too well."

"Bah shut up Gordon." James snapped just as Henry's whistle could be heard down the line. James' signal turned green at last. "Finally!" He shouted in relief, and chuffed off snootily.

Henry came in just as Thomas was pulling away the Wild Nor' Wester coaches. "S-sorry gents." He huffed. "Wind blew over a signal, you know? Had to- huff - take it slowly."

"Oh Henry, worried about the wind now too?" Gordon mocked. "At least there's no rain today!" Thomas and Gordon laughed at this, but Henry just pulled through Knapford on to Tidmouth, and Gordon made his way back to the sheds for a nap.

Later, as James returned from his job, he pulled into Knapford station with nothing behind him, save a faint tail of smoke, and a smirk on his face. "I made it to Ballahoo on time, even with Henry's delay!" He smugly announced to the only other engine in the station, Edward.

"Good for you, now move, the Express is due." Edward replied.

There, on platform 1, was the Wild Nor' Wester, but Gordon was nowhere to be seen or heard. The passengers were getting on board, and the porter was looking around for the big blue engine, but he wasn't there!

Minutes passed, and James got himself turned around on the turntable and returned to the station, but Gordon still wasn't there. Edward was preparing to leave, and was supposed to go after Gordon, but there was no one to pull the express. Edward chuffed away, and James looked at the coaches.

Sir Topham Hatt stepped out onto the platform. "Where is Gordon?" he demanded, finding only the red engine himself at the station.

"Gordon hasn't been seen since coming back this morning!" James replied. "He wasn't at the sheds either, as far as I could tell!"

Hatt looked mournfully around, then sighed in defeat. "I suppose you'll have to take the express James!"

James was suddenly overtaken with a powerful feeling. It might have been described as pride, but he knew pride all too well, and this was something more powerful. Experts have analyzed him, and they've only found this to be an extreme form of his own enormous ego. "YES SAH!" He shouted, pulling an accent as well as the coaches in doing so.

So James the 'splendid' red engine took off. With a huge wheesh of steam, he puffed off proudly with the Wild Nor' Wester and disappeared into the noonday light as he sped off.

"JAMES!" Topham shouted, being entirely drenched in water after James' puff of prideful steam. His hat slopped to the ground, ruined, and he growled as he watched the last coach disappear around a corner. He shook off some water, and just then he heard the deep whistle of the missing engine. "Oh for the…"

Gordon sped into the station, red-faced and embarrassed. "Sorry sir!" He puffed. "I mistakenly was put on the loop line…" He huffed and looked around the station. "Where's the ladies?" He was referring to the coaches, not the passengers of course.

Sir Topham Hatt could only facepalm. He looked up the line again, and heard the distant whistle of the cocky red engine. "James took it, and now you'll have to take his jobs for the evening."

Gordon's response is not to be written down.

"Yes Gordon." Topham sighed. "That includes a freight train, and then some shunting, and then one more freight train. He's already delivered his passengers for the day, and you've been a silly engine, so this is what happens. I heard your boasting this morning, consider this Karma!"

Gordon grumbled some more profane things and then puffed angrily to the sidings, where Thomas mocked him heartily as he aligned James' cars for the big blue engine.

James meanwhile was having a lark. "What a lark!" He shouted, just so everybody knew he was having such a lark. He rattled quickly up Gordon's hill and made quite good time all the way through Kellsthorpe, but as they neared Crovan's Gate, the coaches began to complain. What it was they said, James refuses to say, but they made James mad, and so he buckled and bashed the Coaches rudely. When they stopped at Crovan's Gate, the last stop before Vicarstown, James stopped sharply, knocking the Coaches once more.

"We won't stand for this!" One in the middle whispered.

"Don't let him move, I heard this plan from one of the trucks!" the front one ordered back.

"Hold back!" The back one chanted.

"Ah, get a move on!" James growled, and he tried to move, but the Coaches did as they planned and stayed perfectly still. "Gah! What's with you coaches?" James pulled, and the conductor blew his whistle, but the Coaches stayed put. He pulled and pulled, and suddenly, there was a snap from the frontmost coach. James stopped. "What was that?" He called out.

"I'M DYING!" the front one called. But once checked over, they discovered it was the brake-pipe that had broken, not any of the Coach's more essential parts. "Okay, I'm not dying, but you stupid engine broke me!"

"Only because you stupid coaches held back!" James retorted.

"Enough of this!" James' driver, Geoffrey Black, stopped the argument. He got out of James and looked it over with a man named Jeremiah Jobling, an inspector who happened to be riding the Wild Nor' Wester right then. "Look, I think we can patch this up with maybe a newspaper and some leather bootlaces, what say you Jobling?"

"Anybody got some leather bootlaces?!" Jobling called to the passengers. Whether they did or didn't, all the passengers responded no, and then proceeded to accuse each other of lying.

"Well that wor-HEY!" Geoffrey shouted suddenly.

"What?" Jobling asked.

"You've got leather bootlaces, you prat!" Geoffrey pointed at Jeremiah Jobling's lovely boots, which did indeed have leather bootlaces.

"Ah, but these are me best boots!" Jobling replied. This was met with a chorus of shouts and angry threats as passengers declared he was a selfish jerk and that this was a bad railway. "Oh, fine then!" Jobling finally surrendered. "Take them!"

Geoffrey and Jeremiah worked swiftly and James and the Wild Nor' Wester were back on the line, but none were happy about this situation, and James swore never again would he pull such rude coaches.

"I must say Gordon, for someone who's _never_ shunted before, you are quite good at it!" Thomas chuckled.

Gordon had run out of obscenities, so he simply growled and leered at the little blue tank engine till he pulled away with James' load due for Kirk Ronan. Had he stayed a few minutes longer, he would have seen James pull into Knapford Station, late and moaning about bootlaces.

"My goodness I thought you'd never show up!" Bob Hardy laughed as Geoffrey Black went to check the brake pipe.

"James here biffed this coach too rough and broke the brake pipe." Geoffrey laughed. "We were late 'cause we had to repair it with this newspaper and a bootlace!"

"A Bootlace!" Thomas laughed as he pulled away the Wild Nor' Wester, and pulled the broken coach to a specific siding to be properly repaired.

"I swear, I will never, ever again pull that bloody express!" James moaned, and puffed away to Tidmouth sheds. Thomas laughed and pulled together another set of coaches, this time for Henry's late passenger train, and smiled as he sat dutifully behind it and waited for the big green engine to show up.

"I can't!" shouted Henry at the sheds, who was having a shockingly runny nose for an engine, and sneezed tremendously, blowing Owen Bailey into the turntable well and giving him a nasty bang on the head.

James sulked into the sheds and stopped as to let Owen back out of the turntable, before sulking into place at the farthest shed away from the sick Henry. "...and a bootlace of all things…" He was amidst muttering to himself when Henry sneezed again. "Say it don't spray it Henry!" He snapped angrily.

"Well I'm not feeling my best right now, thanks for asking James!" Henry sniffed. "But I've got to take another train! Oh, can you do it James?"

"Passenger train?" James asked.

"Yea?"

"NO!" James snapped, and the wind slammed his shed doors closed at that exact second, making for a dramatic refusal. Henry moaned and tried to move, only to sneeze powerfully again. "I hope Sir Topham Hatt can get Edward to pull it…"

"Where is Henry?" Thomas muttered to himself as he waited. Henry was, of course, still in the sheds, but Thomas didn't know that, and he looked around the line, hoping for the big green engine to show up.

"Perhaps we should take the train?" Bob Hardy foolishly suggested.

"Not a bad Idea!" Thomas responded instantly, and chuffed quickly to the front of the coaches.

"Now wait a minute Thomas… Shouldn't we~" Bob began, but Sir Topham Hatt cut him off as he approached.

"Thomas!" he boomed. "Henry has taken ill, and James is in disgrace, so the only engine left to take this train is you!" He smiled as kindly as he could at the tank engine, who was excitedly smiling and rolling his eyes. "Be careful now, and don't bash your coaches. It's only a short ride to Brendam!"

"Thank you sir!" Thomas laughed and chuffed away happily. He blew his whistle long and loud as he did, and sped off toward the Brendam branchline.

Little did he and Bob know that he'd left his coaches behind. Hatt had tried to stop him, only to be drowned out by Thomas's whistle, and the passengers were now glaring at him. "Sorry." He laughed sheepishly and ran inside for the phone, calling ahead to Wellsworth.

Thomas and Bob moved cheerfully along. Bob was so focused on keeping Thomas running carefully that he hadn't looked back yet, and Thomas of course couldn't, so neither of them realized they weren't pulling any coaches.

They stopped at a signal at Wellsworth, where the kind signalman called out the window. "What are you doing here Thomas?"

"I'm pulling a train!" Thomas said proudly. Right this moment, Bob looked back at the coaches, and smacked his head repeatedly against Thomas' coal bin as he realized the problem.

"And uh…" the signalman had dealt with some weirdness on this line. He'd been there for years, having seen Henry stop in the tunnel, and he'd seen James with the coaches today, but this was a different fiasco. "Where is your train?"

"Apparently we've left it at the station!" a concussed Bob finally announced.

That night at Tidmouth was highly entertaining for old Edward. "So one engine had to fix his coaches with a Bootlace, one was set to shunting duty all day, and the other left his coaches behind?" He laughed as he puffed back into the sheds, having taken the Flying Kipper for the month. "And poor Henry is sick, so I'll leave you be."

"Thank you Edward." Henry moaned.

"Look, i'm all for changing up the job schedule, but this is getting out of hand!" Edward laughed.

"Just you wait till the coaches try something on you!" James snapped.

"Or the wind blows over some signals!" Gordon growled.

"An honest mistake, it could happen to anyone!" Thomas said.

"Oh I'm sure!" Edward sighed. "I'm sure."


	7. Thomas saves the Day

**Episode 7:**

Thomas was working alone in Tidmouth yard one August day. Edward had just left with a train for Ffarquhar, a city near the middle of the island which a new branchline had been built for. Thomas was now shunting together a train for James to take off to Vicarstown, including the particularly nasty likes of SCRuffey, a privately owned truck.

"Short an' Stumpy ye are!" SCRuffey jeered. "Silly 'ittle tank engine ye are!"

"Oh, shut up!" Thomas snapped, shoving the gruff car into place. "And don't even try it Fred!" Fred Pelhay had been attempting to start a rousing chorus amongst the trucks. What the chorus was, Thomas didn't want to know.

"So sorry Mr. Thomas." Toad the brakevan sighed. "Those Troublesome trucks are not the greatest of fellows!"

"It isn't your fault Toad." Thomas reassured the kind and somewhat insecure brakevan. "It's their nature, i'm just glad you aren't like them!" He put Toad last on James' train, pushed it into its proper siding, and moved along the line, he was needed in Knapford yard now for the Coaches.

Henry tooted as he left the station, and Thomas passed through to reach the yard. He found the Wild Nor' Wester waiting at a platform, so he dutifully shunted it away and stopped it in its proper siding.

"Hello Thomas!" came a voice he enjoyed. Annie and Clarabel the coaches were sitting in another siding nearby, and Annie had called from the front, her sister facing backwards, as usual.

"Hello Annie, Clarabel." He replied, moving toward another line of Branchline coaches for Edward later that day.

"Who's that train for?" Clarabel asked as he passed them.

"It's for Edward, which is different, I know." He laughed. Edward did in fact usually pull freight, but the new branchline had brought more passengers than before, and he was due to pull this train around noon.

"That new branchline is quite nice you know." Annie mused.

"Yes, Ffarquhar is a nice place." Clarabel added.

"I~" Thomas was about to respond, when a scream reached his ears.

He pulled around on the yard's turntable just in time to see James, pulling his line of trucks, screaming along as they pushed him too fast. "HELP!" The red engine screamed, his paintwork brighter from a shower of sparks at his wheels.

"Thomas, his brakes are failing again!" Bob Hardy shouted urgently.

"I've got to do something!" Thomas shouted, looking around. He was a very efficient shunter, and his jobs here were mostly done, so made up his mind, and charged out of the yard.

"Wait Thomas!" Annie and Clarabel shouted simultaneously, "Take the Crane!"

Thomas stopped and looked over to a large rescue crane, known as a breakdown crane, and moved quickly through the well-organized yard. Bob coupled him up and they were off. The large, dark-green crane wasn't heavy, nor sentient, but Thomas could sense it's readiness as he pulled as fast as he could out of Knapford.

The smell of smoke in the air told Thomas that James had no chance of stopping these trucks, and he cursed himself for putting Fred Pelhay and SCRuffey on the same train, and so close to each other. As he charged over Gordon's Hill, he found Toad the Brakevan discarded on the line, sitting there, ejected. Thomas slowed and nearly ran over Toad, but managed to just push him along, however slightly roughly. "Toad!" He shouted as he connected. "What happened?"

"SCRuffey got all the trucks to push James too fast!" Toad shouted. "His brakes caught fire and he been pushed along! I tried to stop it but Fred knocked me off!"

"We'll catch him yet Toad!" Bob shouted from the cab, feeding Thomas as much steam as he could.

The chase was intense, Thomas could only see through the windows of Toad ahead, and as they thundered through Maron, they could see James's train far ahead. "Go Mr. Thomas!" Toad shouted.

The straight stretch of track between Maron and Cronk was a great point for Thomas to catch up to James, as the cars could only push as fast on Hills. Thomas, Toad and the Breakdown crane charged down the tracks, and James screaming could be heard once more as they approached. "HELP!" the red engine continued to scream.

"We're coming James!" Thomas screamed in reply, and pulled as fast as he could.

The straight stretch was running out though, and a sharp corner before Cronk lay ahead, and James couldn't possibly stop in time. Smoke billowed from his wheels as Thomas pulled closer on the second track. James hadn't stopped screaming, and it combined with the trucks laughing made for a deafening sound as Thomas swerved closer.

But it was too late. The turn lay ahead, and Bob had to slow Thomas down to prevent himself coming off the rails. The crash was spectacular, and Thomas, Toad and the Breakdown crane saw it all.

As James hit the turn, he tilted at a bad angle, unrecoverable. Geoffrey Black jumped to safety into a lucky patch of Hay, and James fell from the tracks. Then came his load. Thomas couldn't recall what he had been pulling in his naughty line of trucks, but it all spilled across the field as the trucks jumped the rails one by one. James and his trucks slid for a distance, dirt and grass flying up around the tracks and all across the red engine's paint. Some trucks smashed upon impact, presumably killing them, but unluckily, Fred and SCRuffey survived, only falling across the field.

"Heaven help him…" Toad mumbled as James finally stopped skidding. He was a mess, and Thomas was now glad he'd brought the crane all this way. He stopped beside the crash site, and Bob moved to the crane.

"Do you know how to work it Bob?" Thomas called back.

"I used it once when old Candle crashed back in the 40s!" Bob responded. "If it still works the same, I'll get James up soon enough!"

Henry was passing by just then with a slow goods train, and came to a halt beside Thomas. "What happened here!?" He exclaimed.

"James's brakes failed as he was pushed by these trucks!" Thomas replied.

"We'll be back with a crew, alri' Bob?!" Owen Bailey called out.

"These trucks are making it hard to get James out, i'll have to dispose of them first, want to take them?" Bob asked Henry.

"You'll want a scrap truck for some of them!" Henry replied. "But i'll take the living ones!"

Bob and Owen pulled the living trucks swiftly to the tracks, all of them moaning and regretting the endeavor. Thomas shunted the trucks and Toad to Henry and he towed them away, and James slipped in and out of consciousness. Geoffrey Black came back to help pull his engine out of the dirt and dust.

"Keep it together James." Thomas whispered worriedly as Bob hauled James' tender out of the field.

Finally, the intense hours ended as Bob carefully pulled James out of the ditch he'd ripped through the ground, gently setting him on the tracks. James left side was damaged like nothing Thomas had ever seen, from Sodor or the LBSCR. His paint was shredded and his coupling rod was missing in the dirt, his buffer beam, boiler and dome were dented and somewhat crushed, and the glass on his windows shattered, but James himself was alive, and his essential parts intact.

"C'mon, let's get you back to Tidmouth Sheds." Thomas whispered, pushing James in front and pulling the Breakdown Crane behind him as the sun began to set.

They puffed gently into Tidmouth, taking advantage of the Ffarquhar branchline to avoid the hills, and Thomas let James into the sheds first. "Thomas!" Came a deep voice behind him, and Thomas waited for the owner to come to his front. "Well done Thomas!" Sir Topham boomed, his hat in his hands and a worried yet excited emotion on his face. "Henry and Owen told me what you did, and I'm proud of you!"

"Yea, the train did all the work…" Bob grumbled, somewhat jokingly.

"You did grand as well Bob!" Hatt laughed. "It's a good thing you learned how to use that crane all those years ago!"

"Please sir, will James be alright?" Thomas asked, seeing the engine struggle into the sheds.

"James will be fine, I've called in my best workman, Jem Cole to help get him back on the job!" Hatt nodded as he said this. "Thomas, you will be rewarded soon, but I'm leaving on Vacation tomorrow, so i'm afraid it will have to wait. But don't let me forget, you and Bob deserve something special after this day!"

"Just buy me a pint Topham!" Bob laughed.

"Not after last time Bob." Topham rolled his eyes.

"Where have you been?!" Shouted another voice in the yard. Gordon slowly rolled into the yard with a highly annoyed face and voice. "I had to shunt my own coaches! Henry brings in a scrap truck! What on~~" Gordon stopped shouting as he looked to the sheds and saw James. "What on Sodor?"

"James has had a nasty accident, Gordon!" Hatt replied sternly. "And Thomas and Henry came to the rescue! I think you can excuse your own inconvenience for that!"

Gordon sighed and rolled onto the Turntable, Charlie Sand tipping his hat to Bob Hardy as they passed. Thomas sighed in relief and looked back at James, who seemed already to be better off resting in the sheds.

"Topham! We're going to be late!" Jane called.

Sir Topham Hatt shoved his last pancake whole into his mouth and jumped up, leaving the bill behind as well as his top hat, and ran out of the restaurant to his car where his wife and two grandchildren awaited.

"C'mon Grandfather!" Stephen Hatt whined, pulling Topham into the car.

As he turned the key on the rental car, it sputtered, roared, and died. "Um…" Topham stuttered, attempting it again, but failing. "Curse this rental… This happens everytime…."

A bell rang nearby, and Topham looked up from his dead car to see his saving grace and personal obsession, a train. He tapped on Lady Hatt's arm and got out of the car, approaching the station, hoping for a ride on the engine. It was a steam tram, brown and mostly made of wood, but it was running well and it was sentient too.

"Hello there!" Topham called to it.

"Who me?" it replied. "Oh, well hi!"

"You're a fine engine, may we get a ride?" Topham asked. His wife and grandchildren approached from behind, his grandchildren excited.

"Why not? Henrietta has room." The tram replied. Topham looked over to the tram's train, which consisted of a single coach directly behind him, and three freight cars of various goods. "M'name's Toby!" The coach had a face too, and she winked at Topham as he looked her over.

"What sort of engine is this?" Bridget Hatt asked.

"Why it's a tram!" Topham responded. "And a sentient one too!"

"Is it electric?" Stephen asked.

Toby scoffed indignantly. "No, he's clearly steam. Quite a model too! Where were you built Toby?" Topham asked

"The Great Eastern Railway, but they sold me a while back and i've worked here ever since." Toby smiled again, Topham knew how to talk to trains.


	8. The Hatt Twins

**Episode 8:**

An interesting fact about Sir Topham Hatt is that he has a twin brother. An identical twin brother for that matter. He too is a sir, and a Hatt of course, but his name is Lowham. Their drunk father had a bizarre sense of humor, Topham and Lowham being opposite names. But their names seemed to have stuck hold. While Topham became a high ranking railroad controller, Lowham bounced around on various railroading jobs. Topham is a proper gentleman of high class and is married, while Lowham is a single bumbling jokester. Lowham's favorite joke, however, is to pretend to be Topham.

So when the engines awoke two days after Topham's apparent departure to find him returned, you shouldn't be surprised to learn this was really Lowham.

"Sir! I thought you'd gone off on vacation!" Henry gasped that morning, only barely awoken by Ivo Hugh.

"Why can't I be back?" Lowham replied. His voice was barely different, but to a tired group of engines and firelighter, he sounded like Topham with a cold. "It wasn't a long trip!"

"Does this mean I get my reward now?" Thomas asked excitedly.

"Of course Tommy!" Lowham laughed, and noted Thomas's confusion at the nickname. He told himself not to use nicknames this time around. "I'll be giving that to you later today!"

"Thank you Sir!" Thomas replied and whistled in joy. Lowham looked at the other engines, struggling to remember the name of the big blue engine, but the others he knew, even James whom he remembered from Gerald's line.

"Now, off to your jobs, we can't have this railway running late, can we?" He announced, thinking he was doing a fine job, but Edward was giving him a look he didn't like, the look of a detective having solved a crime. "I'll be in my office if you need me gents!"

And with that, Lowham hopped into Topham's car and drove rather recklessly off to Knapford.

"Something's wrong with him." Edward stated thoughtfully as Ivo Hugh stoked his fire.

"Rabbish, he's just had a grand vacation, and a much needed change of pace!" James replied. James had become far humbler after his accident, and he was repaired now.

"...Rabbish?" Thomas giggled.

"What? I said Rubbish!" James replied.

"No, you said RAAAABbish." Gordon snickered.

"I did not!" James snapped, and before the argument could proceed, the Firelighter was gone and the Drivers arrived, preparing their engines for the day of work.

Meanwhile, a tram named Toby was preparing for his day of work as well. His shed was a small one made entirely of wood, and only fit him, there wasn't enough room for Henrietta, his coach, or Crovan, his driver to stay there. As his driver, Crovan Alderic, was in his cab starting up his fire and preparing for the new day. Toby, however, liked to start his day in his own way, by reflecting on his life.

He'd been working on this old tramway for many years now. He was an old engine of a dying race. He and his siblings had worked on the GER for a long time, before Toby had been bought by this small tramway for the LNER. The only sibling he'd managed to stay in contact with was his sister Flora, but she was far away and mad at him right now over a noodle truck accident.

But yesterday had been a good day for him. A stout gentleman who claimed to run a railway on Sodor had taken a ride on him. He was a kind man who understood Toby, and talked for quite some time with his driver. The man had two grandchildren who liked to play on Toby and Henrietta, and his wife seemed to enjoy their old-fashioned ideas and looks.

Ah how he missed his younger days. This line had been a grand place to be. He used to pull a dozen trucks behind Henrietta, but nowadays he only pulled two or three. His line was falling to sidelines as Lorries took his jobs, and Beeching's men had come to his line only recently, giving it a look that meant doom to an engine.

"Ready for another day Toby?" Crovan called, pulling Toby out of memory.

"Ah, sure. What else can I do?" Toby smiled and Crovan hopped back inside, and he steamed gently out of his shed.

At the first station he reached, he found the stout gentleman once more. Toby had a poor memory for names, so he just referred to the man as Sir. "Good Morning again Sir!"

"Hello Toby, Crovan." the man replied. "I'm afraid I'm not here for a ride, just to come and say Thank you and Goodbye."

"Goodbye?" Toby gasped.

"I have my own railway to run after all!" The man smiled proudly.

"And where do you work your engine?" Crovan asked.

"Oh not like that, I'm a controller on the North Western Railway on Sodor!" The man laughed. "Oh, my engines have probably run it well without me, but the busy summer is coming up, and tourists down there work them harder than ever!"

"Ah, me homeland." Crovan laughed. "In case my name was no indication, i'm a Sudrian me-self! I've seen your engines every time I visit me grandmother."

"Well I hope to see you again Crovan." The man nodded. "Now excuse me, My wife will be searching for me. Thank you, and Goodbye Toby!"

Toby was speechless as the man turned his back and walked off the station. A conductor's whistle blew and Toby had to puff away, but he would stay remicient for the rest of the day.

Back on Sodor, Lowham was in Topham's office, enjoying a game of darts with the Butler, whom he'd paid well to act like he was Topham.

"So, what reward am I supposed reward Thomas with?" Lowham asked casually, hitting a bullseye as he spoke.

"Do you really expect me to know?" The Butler replied, also scoring a bullseye and knocking Lowham's dart from the board. "I know Topham was deciding who would run the new line, and I know there are coaches who go unused each day, but other than that I haven't the slightest idea!"

"A branch line I take it?" Lowham asked, missing the board.

"Indeed."

"Then he shall have it!" Lowham declared, and he hurled his last dart at the board. It hit the metal rim and ricocheted into a picture of the original six engines of the railway, cutting the face of one of the trains who'd left, Candle. "Oops, minor problem."

Thomas was shunting Annie and Clarabel in Knapford yard, he was whistling a tune and was about to let them be coupled to a branch-line train when "THOMAS!" the Disguised Lowham boomed.

"Hello Sir Topham Hatt!" Thomas called back.

"I have your reward ready for you!" Lowham called. Thomas pulled away from the yard and steamed quickly to Knapford Station. "It is this!"

Thomas gasped and then sighed in disappointment as Lowham opened his hand to show him a dart. "Uh, a dart sir?" He tried to be excited, thinking the dart meant something else, then Lowham began to laugh. "What's so funny sir?"

"I'm only joking Thomas, your real reward is I'm going to set you to work on the new branchline!" Lowham declared, raising his arms and tossing the dart backward into a flower pot.

Thomas began to think this too was a joke. "Really sir?"

"This one isn't a joke Thomas, I'm giving you the Fefare… farqerr.. Fffffffffarr….." Lowham stumbled over the name of the Ffarquhar branch line.

"Ffarquhar!?" Edward corrected as he entered the station. "Thomas is getting the Ffarquhar branch line!?"

"Yes! That's it!" Lowham laughed. "And you can even go pick two coaches of your own to take along the line, how's that sound?"

Thomas squealed and whistled in delight. "Annie! Clarabel! Did you hear that!?" He pulled quickly backward out of the station and went into the yard.

Lowham pulled a sheet of paper out of his pocket, a schedule, and checked over when the next trains were due. But a cough drew his attention away. He looked up to see Edward still in the station, glaring directly at him. "Can I help you Edward?" Lowham asked, putting the schedule back.

"Yes, Lowham." Edward growled. Lowham gulped. "You haven't fooled me. I know you're here to cause Confusion and Delay, as your brother might say."

"No, I'm just here to run the line while he's away!" Lowham laughed.

"Oh no." Edward replied. "If you were here for that, you'd have the instructions from your brother that Thomas's reward was meant to be that he'd get to work the freight line now, and that James and I were to begin work on all four branchlines as soon as James was repaired."

"What makes you say-"

"Topham trusts me, mate." Sidney Heaver leaned out of Edwards cab. "Hello again."

"Sidney!" Lowham gasped. "How- how nice to see you again!"

"Eat your hat, Lowham." Edward growled as Sidney pulled himself back into his cabin. "Now, I'm not going to add to the problems you've created by telling the other engines who you are, but I am warning you that SIR Topham Hatt will not be pleased."

Lowham gulped again as Edward pulled out of the station, and he ran to Topham's car. He sped off to Tidmouth Sheds and found it empty, not even a workman or signalman could be found. He stopped the car beside the shes and ran to the turntable, getting inside and loosening a single bolt. He looked around to make sure no one had seen it, and then ran back to the car and drove off again.

Had he stayed any longer, he might have seen James slowly pulling into the sheds. The day was a bit windy, and the wind would probably be blamed for the upcoming accident, bu as James pulled onto the turntable, he found it turned far too quickly. He spun around like a top before coming to a slow rest, dizzy and feeling sick.

"Oh my…. Stop the world! I want to get off!" James moaned as he slunk into the sheds.

Meanwhile, somewhere in London.

"DAMN THIS RENTAL!" Topham shouted as his fifth rental car of the vacation broke down in London.

"Topham!" Jane snapped. "The grandchildren-"

Topham red anger turned to red embarrassment as his grandchildren stared, horrified at their grandfather's language. He grumbled and got out of the car, looking into the engine and and cursing under his breath.

That night on Sodor, Edward listened kindly as Thomas boasted of his new branchline to James, Henry and Edward. Gordon was asleep, and facing the wrong way, as he couldn't situate on the shaky turntable. Workmen were now looking into it, but for now, Gordon's tender was stuck out the shed doors while the other engines talked.

Edward looked up and saw Lowham roll up in Topham's car silently, his lights off so he was hidden in the dark. Edward glared into the windshield, watching till he fell asleep


	9. Confusion and Delay

Episode 9:

The brisk mornings of summer had reached the NWR, but the outlook of the engines was not sunny. Two days ago had been the day Lowham came. While Edward hadn't told any other engine about Lowham, Sidney Heaver had told the drivers that night over drink. (save Bob Hardy, who only got a sandwich) So the Drivers had quite the check over of the real Sir Topham Hatt when he did return.

The Turntable at Knapford had been fixed now, but the turntables at Wellsworth and Vicarstown was now functioning poorly. Anyone who knew the secret of the Hatts could guess that Lowham had something to do with it. But combined with the fact that Thomas was no longer a full-time shunter, and the tender engines like Gordon had to fetch their own coaches, the sheds were growing contentious.

"It isn't proper for a big, strong, tender engine like me to fetch my coaches!" Gordon growled as Ivo Hugh stoked his fire.

"Tender engines don't shunt either!" James whined, who had lost his good nature and had become angry, having siphoned the hatred of sidings from the likes of Gordon and Henry. "Dirty cars in Dirty sidings, my paint will get dirty!" Henry's vanity had faded, and seemed to have faded directly into James, the little leech.

"I don't see the big deal." Ivo Hugh scolded as he awoke Edward last. "Any engine should do as he's told, in order to be really useful, that is."

"You don't know the disgrace of it!" Henry moaned. "Fred and SCRuffey are terribly rude any time we go through a tunnel!"

"Well you deserve that one…" Edward mumbled, waking up to only a fight.

"Alright that's it!" Thomas shouted. He'd been listening angrily this entire time, knowing full well that every one of these complaints were directed at him, for simply doing his jobs on his branchline. "Henry, Fred acts tough, but you yell at him a bit and he's done, but SCRuffey is trouble, i'll give you that. James, you've never so much as chipped a wheel, before and after your accident, and you won't if you just do your jobs without complaint. And Gordon, did you ever learn the meaning of that latin phrase: Abi in malam rem?"

"No…." Gordon now looked at Henry for help. "I only know English and Sudric, silly Thomas. Two languages that will actually help you on this island?"

"Oh I think Latin has helped Thomas quite a bit already Gordon." Ivo Hugh laughed knowingly and left.

"Well I won't sit around like this all day, i'm leaving!" Thomas snapped indignantly, and puffed onto the conveniently directed turntable, leaving without his driver.

"Thomas! Thomas!" Bob Hardy shouted after him as Thomas puffed away.

"Good luck Hardy, take the van if you need it." Charlie Sand replied. "But only since you didn't drink last night."

Bob Hardy took the driver's carpool van and sped after his engine.

"What do you mean by leaving without your driver? I won't let you on the line without him!" Sir Topham Hatt scolded as Thomas pulled into Knapford station with Annie and Clarabel.

"Thomas!" Bob Hardy shouted. He nodded to Topham and climbed into Thomas' cab. "Don't you ever do that again!"

"Now can I go sir?" Thomas asked Topham.

"Don't you dare leave Hardy behind again." Topham ordered sternly, before indicating to the conductor to let the tank engine away with his passengers.

Topham watched the engine and his two coaches puff away slowly. "It's still a no, sir!" Clarabel called as they pulled away, as she always faced backward.

Topham slowly walked back inside. He'd discovered yesterday the downside to owning Sentient trains and rolling stock. While they were a tourist bonus, a perk, and good workers with a conscious for a job well done, it also meant they had their own ideas. Something he'd obviously forgotten, as Henry's tunnel should have reminded him of it in the first place. He'd talked to the two coaches yesterday, asking about Thomas on the branchline. He discovered that not only was he running it perfectly, without prior experience, but the coaches enjoyed working with him too. He'd asked if they'd go back to being regular coaches, or if the Branchline could be worked as intended by James and Edward. Clarabel's call back had been a definite answer to the question.

As he sat at his grandfather's desk, recalling the conversation the day before, the Butler walked in. "Excuse me sir, but there seems to be some trouble down at the sheds."

"Great, just what I needed, more trouble." Topham groaned, and he looked over out the window. There, three of the six sheds were still full. James, Gordon and Henry were still sitting inside their sheds, with faces of utter defiance.

As Topham drove over, he could hear the three stupid engines chanting a protest. "We won't shunt! No more trucks! We won't shunt! No more trucks!" And various orders and demands being shouted from their drivers, who were standing in front of each.

Topham parked by the turntable well and hopped out. He pulled a small box from his trunk and set it on the turntable. The drivers didn't hear him over the shouts, and the big engines pretended not to see him, and continued shouting. So Topham stood on his box, and waited, and waited until Owen Bailey glanced back and saw him, stopping the other driver's shouts and turning around to face him.

Topham stared at the big engines now. He stared with the kind of power that only the controller of a railway could. Henry and James's chantes began to waver, and they both looked at Gordon now, who steadily chanted on. But Topham winked at Henry, who suddenly stopped, and looked at the ground. Gordon glared at the green engine, but James saw this lack of support and stopped too, backing up slightly into his shed. Gordon chanted "We won't shunt!" One last time, before finally looking at Hatt with a powerful face, clearly the leader of this pack.

With the yard now silent, Topham stepped off his box and approached Charlie, Owen and Geoffrey. "Now." He boomed, the echo filling the now silent yard. "What's all this about?" He demanded with a power, Henry shuddered now.

"If ye' couldn't tell already from yon' chantin', they're a-refusing to shunt!" Owen replied, exasperated.

"They won't move, we can't even force it!" Geoffrey added.

"And we won't!" Gordon thundered. "We won't pull in dirty sidings, that was Thomas' job! You fetch our coaches, and we'll pull!"

"How for the love of all that is holy could Hatt pull the coaches?!" Charlie Sand shouted at his engine.

"Silence please, Charlie." Sir Topham Hatt ordered. "Gordon let me make one thing very clear. Useful engines on this railway do exactly as they're told. Now you stop this no-shunting Nonsense and get to work, NOW!"

James nodded, indicating for Black to get into his cab, and Henry shook violently now, like he may just be sick again. But Gordon simply continued to glare as Charlie got inside his cab. Topham got to his car and put his box-stool away, but he stayed out of his car until all three engines rolled out for their work of the day. James first, attempting to blubber an excuse for their actions, then Henry, who seemed to be actually sick now, and Gordon last, refusing to acknowledge the fat controller.

So that day, Edward did the shunting. Topham rearranged the jobs for the day so that everything could still get done, even while Edward was working away.

Except it still didn't all work out in the yards. Edward was bullied and hissed at while he dutifully worked. And though Topham never heard it, the other three engines would jeer at him for shunting, because he was a tender engine, and tender engines don't shunt.

Now as for the happy little tank engine? He was puffing quite contently along his branchline. The town of Ffarquhar was much further inland, and the Branchline ran from Knapford, and came away from the main line. It ran across a viaduct over the River Els. This river is an old landmark of the island, and is a well-known fishing grounds. Today, as Thomas chuffed over the bridge for about the sixth time, he sighed. "I should like to fish." He said to Annie and Clarabel.

"Oh Thomas, don't be silly!" Annie laughed.

"Engines don't fish!" Clarabel added.

"If you asked Gordon, he might say Tank Engines don't run branchlines either, but here we are!" Thomas rolled his eyes.

As they stopped at Maithwaite Station, he tried to fill up on water, only to discover the pipe: "Empty!" As Bob Hardy shouted.

"Oh dear, what will we do now?" Annie asked.

"I suppose we could collect water from the river…" Bob suggested.

"Well if that's all we can do…" Thomas sighed, and they pulled backward out of the station to the bridge again.

"Look Thomas! It's just like fishing!" Bob laughed. He'd attached a bucket to a string and was lowering and lifting it from the bridge, beginning to fill Thomas' water tanks.

"No it's not." Thomas replied annoyedly. "You're trying to get water. Fishers try to catch fish!"

"But it is similar…" Annie agreed.

"Oh, just hurry up, I don't want to be much later." Clarabel moaned.

So Bob moved as fast as he could, slowly filling Thomas's water tank with just enough to make it to the next water tower, then they puffed off to Ffarquhar. But as Thomas turned around on the short loop line at the end of Ffarquhar, he began to feel sick. He didn't tell Bob yet, but as he approached his coaches, Bob shut off steam and pulled him into a siding. "There's something wrong Thomas!" he shouted. "You aren't steaming right!"

"Ooh… ow. I know." Thomas groaned as Bob stopped him before the buffers.

Bob hopped out of Thomas and moved to his boiler, opening it and taking a look. Annie and Clarabel watched, concerned, from the station, and Bob pulled out a torch and began to examine inside Thomas's boiler. He shrugged and ran to the station, telephoning Sir Topham Hatt.

When Hatt arrived along with Jeremiah Jobling, the Inspector, Bob Hardy was still examining Thomas's boiler.

"Lemme have a look now!" Jobling demanded, taking the torch and a pole, and began discussing the problem with Bob as they sat atop Thomas.

"Well Thomas, whatever did you do now?" Sir Topham Hatt laughed. Thomas could only groan as the pole was pushed around his boiler, then Bob burst out laughing heartily. "What is it?" Topham demanded.

"Hatt you'll want a look at this!" Jobling chuckled. Topham struggled up the ladder as Thomas groaned, Hatt's weight pushing down on his tanks and boiler. "Do you see what I see?" Bob Hardy had moved back into Thomas's cab, and returned holding the bucket they'd used to fill up Thomas only an hour or so earlier.

"My word, is that… fish!?" Topham laughed. "So you wanted to go fishing, eh Thomas? Haha! Well now you've done it!"

"Get me a shunter's pole and some rope, we'll fish 'em out!" Jeremiah Jobling shouted. Thomas groaned as Bob ran to collect the materials, and he could hear Annie and Clarabel laughing from afar.

Bob handed the makeshift fishing poles to Hatt and Jobling, then took coal from Thomas's fire to make a grill, for cooking the fish. Thomas was allowed to sleep as the three men laughed and joked up and down the tank engine, whether fishing or grilling. But before he closed his eyes, he could see a smirking red bus collect his passengers. He growled slightly, scaring Sir Topham Hatt, but the bus couldn't possibly hear him, and swiftly sped away down the roads.

As the sun's glow began to dim, the sunset beginning to appear in the faint orange above the ocean, Hatt suddenly recalled the other problem of the day. "Jobling, where do you think a man like me could get another tank engine?" He asked, Bob Hardy now cleaning up the fire.

"Another one?" Jeremiah Jobling laughed. "I guess at a works? I don't know, but there is one in Barrow-In-Furness not far off the island, maybe you can find a good Tank Engine there?"

"Lemme guess, the tender engine didn't shunt?" Bob inquired.

"I set Edward to shunting duty for today, but the other engines mocked him." Topham sighed, his full belly grumbled slightly. "I guess i'll have to give in to their demands and get another engine! Barrow-In-Furness, you said?"

"Just make sure it's a nice one…" Thomas moaned, waking up at last. "I've had my fill of jerk engines on this island!"


	10. Caterpillars

Chapter 10:

It was a new Morning on Sodor, as it often is. Ivo Hugh drove up to the sheds for the work, humming to himself and wondering about things like, would the cold war ever end? But unlike a typical morning for the young lad, there was a car already at the sheds, a blue one that was unmistakable on this island. The stout figure of Sir Topham Hatt leaned against his car as Ivo drove up, and the NWR controller seemed to be waiting for him.

"Good morning sir!" Ivo called as he stepped out, wondering why Hatt was waiting for him today. "I'm not late, am I?"

"Of course not Ivo!" Topham boomed. "I just had a special request this morning. Could you wake Edward first, then wait a moment as I talk to him?"

Ivo nodded and moved to the number 2 engine. Taking care as he always did, Ivo got Edward's fire burning in good time, and sat a moment as he made sure it was burning correctly.

Edward mumbled and yawned as the warmth spread through his boiler, then he opened his eyes. Ivo normally would start at the easternmost shed and work across, and Edward always chose a middle shed, so why he was awakened first was strange to him, till Hatt cleared his throat and got the old engine's attention. "G-Good morning sir!" Edward stuttered, yawning again.

"Edward, I understand you had a rough day yesterday, shunting and all that." Hatt began.

"They hissed at me and told me I had black wheels!" Edward moaned, waking up now and remembering the fights from the prior day. "...I don't have black wheels, do I?"

"No Edward! You have nice blue ones!" Topham was confused at the question, but decided to reassure the engine rather than confuse him. "And I'm sorry these… bigger engines, decided to do that."

"First off, James is approximately the same size as me." Edward snapped. "Second, do I have to shunt again today?"

"Edward, today you do." Topham stated, and the engine groaned. "But tomorrow, we'll have a new engine to do the shunting, and you'll be back running branch-lines!"

"A new engine?" Edward gasped. "It'd better be a tank engine if you know what's best for the railway…"

"Of course Edward, of course." Topham whistled, and Ivo moved to start waking James.

"I'm on my way to Barrow-In-Furness right now, Edward!" Topham called, and with that, he stepped off the turntable and made is way to his car, driving to Knapford station.

By the time the Express was due, Gordon was sitting dutifully at his position, glaring as Edward pushed his coaches into place behind him. Topham was getting on this train, headed for Vicarstown, then off the island. He sat on board the comfortable coaches of the Wild Nor' Wester as Gordon pulled out right on time, and he waved to poor Edward as they made their way past the yards.

A few stops later, Topham disembarked at the works of Barrow-In-Furness. It was a shoddy and dirty place, and the gentleman who greeted him had the air of a Con-man. But here he was, Sir Topham Hatt, controller of the NWR, ready to examine the goods.

"Alri'!" The salesman said. "'Ere's our stock of Engines witho' a 'ome. We gots all kinds o engines! Wha're ya in tha business for?" The Salesman was walking alongside Topham as they strolled through a corridor of engines, all covered in tarps and with various price tags on each. The area was dimly lit, and Topham felt like he was going to be mugged or scammed by anything from the salesman to that lamp-post.

"I'm in need of a new tank-engine!" Hatt declared, doing his best to sound above this man and his money, as well as attempting not to be terrified. . "Good for shunting and small jobs, preferably Sentient."

"Did'ja say Sentient?" The Salesman laughed. "We ain't got none of those kin's 'ere!"

"What about me!" A cry came from one of the tarps. "I'm alive!"

The Salesman threw a rock from the ground at the tarp. "Shut it!" He glared terribly at the engine beneath the tarp, then immediately changed his demeanor as he turned back to Hatt. "Ok, so we gots one! But you don' want 'im!"

"What's wrong with it?" Hatt asked.

"He's… ah…" The Salesman stuttered over his words.

"Oh just pull of this tarp and let him see me!" The voice squealed again.

The Salesman tried to stop him, but Topham marched firmly up to the speaking engine and pulled the tarp off quickly. There, sat a bizarre tank engine. It was identifiable as a tank engine, but the engine was unlike any engine Topham had ever seen! It's boiler and tank had been rounded, unlike but similar to a saddle tank, and it had green paint with odd red stripes, but it was clearly rusting. "What sort of engine is this?"

"It's ah… GWR… Trojan… somethin' or otha?" The Salesman stuttered.

"I've been rebuilt!" The Engine laughed. "I'm happy to shunt, sir! Where is your yard, sir?"

"'Old it!" The Salesman shouted. "I 'avent sold you yet!"

"How much?" Topham asked. He'd already made up his mind. This engine was not only sentient, but it was ready for work. That's what he needed on his island, an engine that wanted to do the hard work, even just for attention. "I want to buy this engine. I don't care what model it is, so long as he functions!"

"Uh.. Uh… Sir, I must warn you-" The Salesman stuttered.

"HOW MUCH?!" Topham boomed. "Or shall I make an offer?"

"Sir, this engine has been bought and sold again and again, no-no-no one wants it!" The salesman laughed. "Ye can't return it once you buy it! I'm on the end of me straw!"

"Then it's settled." Hatt laughed, and the Salesman rounded up a few men to pull the engine out of the building, setting it on the rails due toward Sodor.

Once the money was settled and the engine was ready, Topham had hopped in. Having previously cleared his way home via rails, the BR knew he would be riding back down the line on this tank engine. So having filled up the tanks and bunker of the little green engine, they were now their way down the line, riding past Crovan's Gate.

"So do you have a name?" Topham asked. He was the driver, as he didn't bring anyone along to drive this engine home.

"Eh, i've been called a lot of things." The engine wheeshed. "Mostly they call me a menace, or 'little green caterpillar'."

"Caterpillar?" Topham asked.

"Yes sir! They say my odd shape and paint makes me look like a little green caterpillar with red stripes! Do I look like a caterpillar to you sir?"

"Not at all! What's your real name?"

"Well… there was a nice engine I met on the Great Western Railway who called me Percy. I like that name sir!"

"Then Percy you shall be!" Topham declared.

Right then, Henry whistled by, and Percy's little whistle shrieked in reply. "Who's that, sir?" Percy asked. "Are all your engines sentient?"

"Yes Percy, that was Henry." Topham bit his tongue, debating what to tell this new and bright-eyed engine about his engines. "All of my engines are indeed sentient, and you are the sixth!"

"That engine had a 3 on his tender, do I get a number sir?"

"Perhaps in a little while Percy, you must earn it first!" Topham was mostly making conversation now, and was sort of messing with his new engine. Little did he know that Percy was the kind of engine to prove himself anyway, but with a reward at stake, Percy was about to live up to his nickname of 'Menace'.

"Then I'll do whatever you want sir! Let's hurry!" Percy tooted his whistle and sped up greatly. Topham stumbled as the little engine's wheels spun fast, and reached Knapford as fast as Gordon could have.

Meanwhile, up on the Ffarquhar branch line, Thomas was puffing along with Annie and Clarabel. He was done for the day, and was heading back home when he noticed a new vehicle along the roadside. It was an odd, little, orange machine, and it had a scoop on its front and… it was sentient! Thomas slowed as they passed, now going the snails pace the other vehicle was.

"Hello, I'm Terence the Tractor!" the vehicle called. "How do you do?"

"Hello… Did you say you were a tractor?" Thomas asked.

"Yes."

"Ah. Well, I'm Thomas the Tank Engine!" Thomas snootily puffed.

"Yes. You're that engine who put fish in their boiler!" Terence laughed. "Ah well, you trains and your rails are amusing."

Thomas was surprised! "What do you mean 'our rails?'"

"I just mean I have lovely caterpillars, I can go anywhere!" Terence laughed, and, just for show, spun around in a small circle.

"What ugly things!" Thomas snapped. "I don't want to go anywhere, I like my rails!" And with that, Thomas chuffed off quickly, hoping to never meet that tractor again.

"Why, what a puffed up little Puffball!" Terence laughed to himself as he watched Thomas and his coaches go down the line. "... I like him!" And with that, the orange tractor drove away.

As Thomas puffed through Knapford Yards after returning his coaches, he found SCRuffey whispering to a crowd of snickering freight cars. As Thomas passed, a truck called after him "Watch ou' for tha' ca'apilar!"

Thomas gasped, thinking the trucks had already heard of his encounter with Terence. Trucks were the gossip mongers of the island, and word spread fast among them, but Thomas couldn't believe that they'd already heard of his conversation from only that day.

Thomas chuffed quickly to Tidmouth, only to discover the sheds almost full! There were six berths, so every night since James had come, there'd be one left open. Today, there was only one left for Thomas, and a new engine was a snug and asleep all the way to the east. Gordon and James were eyeing it suspiciously, while Henry and Edward we're just talking, presumably about the new, green engine.

Thomas turned around on the round table and the four other engines stopped talking. "Who's this?" Thomas asked.

"Hatt said his name was Percy!" Edward replied. "We're pretty sure he's here for-"

"To take your shunting duty!" Gordon cut in.

"Bizarre little engine…" Henry mumbled to himself, then looked up. "I haven't any idea what sort of engine he is! And I know my classes."

"Looks like a caterpillar!" James jeered, just as Thomas pulled back into the last shed. "A green caterpillar with red stripes!"

Thomas sighed in relief, and was about to mention what the trucks had told him, but the no-longer-sleeping new engine whispered " And you look like a fire truck."

The other engines laughed hysterically as James roared furiously and unintelligibly, but little Percy just smiled and fell back asleep.


	11. Feeling Green

**Chapter 11:**

The tavern of Knapford was a nice gathering place for railroad workers after a long day's work. Tonight, in the hot September of 1962, four engine drivers were gathered around a table. First was Charlie Sand, Gordon's driver, who was drinking something strong and eating a sandwich. Second was Geoffrey Black, James' driver, who was eating a Kabob. Third was Sidney Heaver, Edward's driver, who wasn't eating, but smoking a pipe and had his feet on the table. Last was Bob Hardy, Thomas's driver, who wasn't allowed to drink after a certain incident but was instead enjoying his third sandwich of the night. As they sat and chatted, another man approached. Dark-skinned, tall, and beaming, Neil O'Hart, Percy's driver of the past week, sat down beside his co-workers and waved for a drink.

"Evenin' mate" Geoffrey remarked as Neil sat down.

"Huh, where's Owen?" Neil asked, noticing that Owen Bailey, Henry's driver, was not at their usual table. The bartender brought Neil his drink and he took a gulp. "Is it Kipper night?"

"No." Bob Hardy replied. "Pretty sure Henry's having a breakdown again."

"Sick again?" Charlie remarked. "That's the third time this month!"

"Even Edward didn't get sick this often before his remodel." Sidney added. "I wonder what's gotten into the green brute!"

Back in Tidmouth Sheds, Henry was not feeling great. Owen Bailey and Jeremiah Jobling were looking him over, attempting to discover what was wrong with the big engine, and they weren't having much luck. Gordon and Thomas were asleep, James was out taking a night train, and Percy and Edward were attempting to comfort poor Henry.

"Have you checked for Boiler sludge?" Edward suggested hopefully.

"Cheer up mate!" Percy, who had been readily accepted as the new shunter, offered some happiness. The engine hadn't yet been repainted, and hadn't yet 'earned' his number 6, but he was determined to get on the right side of everybody. "If you want to feel bad, i'm sure I can wake up Gordon. Listening to him always puts me down!"

Owen chuckled and came out from underneath his great engine. "Well Henry, we can'nae find anything!" He finally announced, somewhat defeated. "I'll talk t' Sah' Topham Hatt, we'll see wah' we can do!"

Henry moaned as Jobling and Bailey walked away whispering, and Edward sighed. "It's alright old friend, you'll be fine in a few days."

"No." Henry moaned. "I'm the sickest train you've ever met, right Percy?"

"Well, I've never met a sick engine!" Percy chirped. "So sure, you are the sickest engine i've ever met."

"Oh, so i'm a special case then?" Henry groaned. "I'm the only engine the caterpillar has ever met. Great."

"That's not what I meant." Percy laughed. "I'm just saying you're-"

"Stop that noise!" Gordon snapped suddenly, having been woken up by the conversation. "The Express Engine needs his rest!"

"Well when the Express Engine gets here, I'll shut up." Percy replied snarkily.

Gordon growled, Henry moaned, and Edward just rolled his eyes. Percy smirked again and fell asleep, the other engines following suit soon after.

But in Knapford Tavern, Owen was now discussing the problem of Henry with his fellow drivers. Jobling had left a while ago, and so the six drivers of the NWR were left to spin their own theories in a slowly emptying tavern on a hill.

"Suppose there's a problem with his living parts?" Bob Hardy suggested. "Engine Anatomy has gotten complicated in recent years… Sentient one's seem prone to the kind of problems we experience as Humans."

"Ah, you're suggesting an engine doctor then?" Charlie laughed. "I doubt it's the fleshy face of the stupid engine, it's probably a technical problem."

"I've worked in a works before, this sounds more like a problem of the smokebox!" Neil offered. "What model is Henry again? I may have some better idea of it if I know his make."

"Now tha's a trick righ' there!" Owen laughed. "Ol' Henry ain't any real engine. E's meant ta' be a LNER Pacific, but e's a fake. A knock-off. Some thief stole Gresley's plans and built 'im, but failed to build 'im righ'. Bertram bought the engine before e' knew wah' happened!"

"Alright, doesn't this explain the problem then?" Geoffrey pointed out. "If he isn't built right, couldn't we find out what's built wrong and fix it?"

"A fair idea…" Sidney nodded. "But that'll take quite some time to search over."

"Och, Henry's goin' nowhere tomorrow at th's rate…" Owen sighed.

And he was right. The next morning, even good old Ivo Hugh could barely get a start out of poor Henry. Owen and Jobling were already working hard on Henry by the time Thomas and Gordon left for their trains.

Now, for the past week, Edward and Thomas had been taking turns teaching little Percy about the work in the yards. Percy was learning well, and the bigger engines, James, Gordon and Henry, had taken somewhat of a liking to the new engine. Percy worked nearly as efficiently as Thomas, and had even managed to shut up SCRuffey for a time.

"Alright then Percy, can you handle alone today?" Edward asked as he spun gently on the turntable that morning. "With Henry in his current state, i'll have to do more work today, and i won't have time to check up in the yards, can you handle that?"

"Glad to Edward!" Percy replied cheerfully. "It won't be any trouble."

"Good." Edward nodded and began to pull away, then stopped. "Hey be careful on the Main Line! Whistle or shout to the signalmen, they tend to fall asleep!" And then he chuffed off.

"C'mon Percy!" Neil called, jumping on the tank engine. "If we can handle today without a supervisor, maybe Hatty will give you a repaint!"

"Whoo-hoo!" Percy laughed and whistled, speeding across the turntable to Knapford yard.

Sir Topham Hatt was just beginning to eat breakfast when the Butler walked in on him and his wife. "Excuse me sir, news from the sheds!"

"Ah great." Topham sighed. "Which engine is on strike over Percy?"

"That's not it at all sir." the Butler replied. "One of the engines, Henry I believe, is broken down and with no feasible idea for repairs. Mr. Bailey is requesting you come see him."

Topham grunted and ate his donut, then stood, kissed his wife goodbye, and headed out the door for Tidmouth sheds.

When he reached the shed, Henry was at last awake. Owen Bailey was atop the engine, staring deep inside Henry's funnel, while Jeremiah Jobling was under the chassis, inspecting beneath the green engine. Topham parked beside the shed and moved closer. Another workman had brought a variety of tools for the men, and was sitting on the Turntable railings when Topham approached. The workman jumped to salute as Topham approached the engine, and Bailey hopped down to greet him.

"Good mornin' Sah." Owen said.

"Alright, what's happening here man?" Topham demanded.

"Well." Jobling declared. "It's looking pretty simple, but it's not an easy fix." Topham nodded, waiting for the answer. "You probably know that Henry isn't built right, and that your Grandfather Bertram was somewhat… swindled, into buying him."

"I did know that." Topham nodded. "Grandfather meant to buy a Pacific, another engine like Gordon, but ended up with Henry, a knock-off instead." Henry seemed offended at the remark. "Henry, I mean that the nicest way possible, because I'm stating the fact. You look like an A1 Pacific, but inside, your builder messed up the situation. You are a really useful engine, but you are not a perfect engine."

Henry was more settled by this. "Thank you sir…" He sighed. "Can you fix me, or at least patch me up?"

"Well Owen, Jeremiah? What's the situation?" Topham demanded.

"Like you said, Henry's inside is incorrectly built." Jobling replied. "It appears to be his Smokebox specifically. It's too small, and the latest coal isn't the right condition for Henry to work at full capacity!"

"I see… so what do you suggest?" Topham asked. "We rebuild Henry's Smokebox?

"No, Crovan's Gate Works aren't equipped for a reconstruction of that level." the workman called. Topham turned to him like it was a surprise to hear from him. "Sorry to barge in sir… I just work there so I happened to… I mean, I heard what you said…. Um."

"Thank you for that information Albert." Jobling nodded. "Sir, I dare say the coal is the real problem. If we could get some better coal…"

"Welsh coal!" Owen suddenly cried. "I was readin' a letter from me cousin, e' works on tha' Sco'ish lines an' they use Welsh coal! It's good stuff 'e said!"

"Welsh Coal… expensive stuff." Topham sighed.

"But I've got to agree with Owen." Jeremiah replied. "Welsh coal has properties that make it burn better, we'd be able to get much more steam out of old Henry if we can get some of that!"

Topham nodded and returned to his car. He drove away, but decided he rather than go to his office, he decided to go for a drive and clear his head. Though he did enjoy riding his trains, he knew his own driving was better for his head.

Topham drove to Crosby and stopped. He was pretty sure now Welsh coal was the best plan for fixing Henry, and was approaching the Telephone when he looked up. There was Percy, sitting at a red signal and waiting patiently. Topham was about to call out to the little engine when he heard a deep whistle. There, on the same line as Percy, was the express engine himself. Topham gasped and realized the accident that was about to take place. "Percy!" he shouted, desperately trying to warn the tank engine, but he knew he was in no position for it.

What happened next happened fast. Gordon shouted and whistled, screeching his brakes hard, but he wouldn't stop in time. Percy looked up and gasped, desperately blowing his whistle and shouted indistinctly, and his wheels suddenly spun wildly. Neil O'Hart jumped from Percy's cab as Gordon whooshed into the station, and suddenly, there was too much steam and too much noise to see what had happened.

When the steam and smoke cleared, Topham was afraid of what he'd see. What he saw, however, was a good sight. Neil had landed on the Station and was looking around in shock. Gordon, who was still completely intact, was staring in shock and horror at the empty track above him. Topham ran to the track and looked ahead, and there, far down the track, was Percy, speeding backwards and whistling and screaming, his eyes shut tight.

"Godred Crovan's grace!" Gordon stuttered. "What was he doing on here anyway?!"

"Get up Neil!" Topham ordered, "Charlie, move over, we're hopping on board!" Neil and Topham jumped on Gordon and the Express engine started off. The Wild No' Wester thundered down the line, and Neil explained what had happened.

"Percy and I stopped at the signal, I suppose the signalman must have fallen asleep, but anyway we were waiting see, but we didn't see Gordon coming and… well."

"Yes, we do have that problem, don't we Charlie." Hatt sighed. "C'mon, we'd better find out where your poor train ended up!"

Gordon neared Wellsworth and slowed, as this was his next station. Topham and Neil disembarked and ran across the platform, for there, in the siding, was Percy, smacked into some buffers and breathing heavily.

"Well Percy, it looks like you've stopped safely." Topham laughed.

"I'm *cough* I'm sorry sir." Percy gasped. "I was waiting for the signal to change and I forgot what Edward had said and and and…." Percy continued to gasp and breathe heavily, and Gordon rolled up a little further.

"Well Percy!" he laughed. "You were very grand to start so quickly, you stopped a nasty accident for me and you!"

"I did?" Percy gasped. "I mean, yea, I did!"

Topham and Neil boarded Percy now as Gordon and Charlie drove off with the Express, and Neil dropped off Topham back at Crosby and bid goodbye. As Topham got back in his car, he looked at the little engine. His paint remained as rusty as Topham had found him. Hatt sighed and returned to the sheds, where Jobling and Alfred the workman still stood. "Excuse me, Alfred?" He called as he pulled up.

"Me, yes sir?" Alfred replied.

"Get the same paint we use for Henry." Topham ordered. "The green, the red, and the yellow for the numbers. I need the stencil number six, and the side shed cleared, Percy is to be repainted tonight."

"Ah." Alfred nodded. "Well my girlfriend won't like it, but I'm happy to get paid!"

Jobling laughed, and Alfred ran off. Topham looked back at Henry. It'd been quite a day for his green engines.


	12. Of Other Railways

**Chapter 12:**

As a new day began, the 2nd of October, across the United Kingdom, an engine was making his way from the Great Western railway to Sodor's North Western Railway. His name was Oliver, he was as sentient as a Sudrian engine, and he was bringing a specially ordered load of Welsh Coal to the island. He hummed happily along the line, whistling as he passed over the Vicarstown drawbridge, and smiling cheerfully as he passed a crimson bus. Behind him were three trucks of coal and a particularly nasty Breakvan, but they'd been hardly any trouble, so he just ambled on though the station of Vicarstown and on through the island.

As the GWR engine reached Tidmouth Station, he slowed and looked ahead. Oliver had yet to meet any of the engines on the island, as Ivo Hugh was only just waking them up as the sun began to rise. He squinted as he looked across the yard to their sheds. Six sheds each filled with a single engine, and each painted a bright color, glinting in the morning light.

Back across the yard, Percy was the first one awake for the morning. "Ah, what a perfect sunrise… if it weren't blinding me, I might enjoy it." He laughed to himself as Ivo began waking Gordon, the next engine over.

"Oh why is it that every time you wake up, you have to make an annoying comment before anything else!?" Gordon groaned.

"I don't know." Percy laughed. "Why is it that every time you talk, your voice comes out?"

"Wha- what does that- pah!" Gordon blustered, unable to make a retort.

"And while we're on the subject…" Thomas groaned, waking up now too, "Why is it I only ever hear you two argue? Is it genuine hate or simply the only way you know how to communicate?"

"The only consistency I see," Began James, "Is that my paint always looks stunning in the morning! The only red engine on Sodor, I am handsome!"

"Wow, what a great start to the day!" Edward groaned. "Ivo, put out my fire please and let me go back to sleep."

A laugh from the yard stole the attention now. Edward, James, Thomas, Gordon and Percy all looked up to see the Great Western engine sitting at the station and laughing heartily. "Who are you!?" Thomas called out.

The engine now pulled away from his cars and stopped in front of the turntable. "Sorry to eavesdrop, gents!" He said. "I just haven't met engines like you before!"

"You didn't answer Thomas's question." Percy returned, glaring somewhat suspiciously at the new engine.

"Sorry mate, you're right." He smiled. "M'name's Oliver! I'm from the GWR bringing a sick engine here some fancy coal, which one of you is that?" A cough from Henry as he struggled to wake up took Oliver's attention. "Ah, him."

"Welsh Coal?" Ivo asked, finally speaking up after the whole conversation. "Grand! I'll tell Sir Hatt, he'll be glad to have it!" Ivo jumped off of Henry's footplate and ran to his car, heading for Knapford as fast as he could.

"Heh, did I scare him?" Oliver laughed.

"Wait, you're from the GWR?" Percy asked.

"The Great Western Railway!" Oliver laughed. "You know, there are two ways of doing things, as they say, The Great Western way-"

"-Or the wrong way!" Percy finished Oliver's sentence. "I worked on the GWR for a while, how's Montague?"

"Montague?" Oliver asked. "Never met the engine. Not hard, there are a lot of engines on the GWR."

"The what way or what?" Edward cut in. "And what does that mean? What exactly is the Great Western Way?"

"It's just a way of saying 'Do it Right'." Oliver replied. "My mate Fergus prefers saying it that way anyway."

"Oh." Thomas understood now. "So either do it right or do it wrong? That's kind of a dumb phrase. That's like saying 'Either I run on Rails or I don't!" Thomas was still bitter about Terrence, who reminded the tank engine of his abilities every time they passed on the Ffarquhar line.

"I think it's perfectly reasonable!" boomed a voice of power from across the yard. Sir Topham Hatt had arrived amid the conversation, and had been listening for only a moment.

"Good morning sir!" Percy called, a suckup as always.

"Are you the controller?" Oliver asked as Topham approached. "I've brought the Welsh Coal!"

"Good good!" Sir Topham Hatt nodded. "Please bring the cars over to that side shed,-" Topham indicated the shed engines were repainted in. "-and then you can rest before you return home."

"Thank you 'sah!" Oliver smiled, and he backed away from the sheds toward his cars.

The NWR drivers began boarding their engines, except Owen, who remained beside his engine to check him over again. Oliver pushed the trucks to the side shed and backed up into the yard. He stopped by the water tower and his driver began to fill his tanks.

"Two ways o' doin' things!?" A truck called. Oliver looked over to see a particularly nasty faced truck staring at him, with the rough letters 'S. C. Ruffey' scrawled across him.

"Ah, trucks are jerks here too?" Oliver laughed. "Yes, there are two ways of doing things, the Great Western Way or-"

"Or the RIGHT way!" SCRuffey interrupted. The trucks on all sides burst out chuckling. Oliver was shocked. Even the trucks from the GWR wouldn't mock the saying.

"I'm very sorry sir." A smaller voice peeped up from the side. Oliver glanced back to the other side to see a kind-looking and scared Brakevan looking apologetically at him. "The trucks are not the nicest of characters around here."

"Oh it's fine." Oliver replied. "Trucks are rarely nice here in Britain, though I've heard that African cars are very nice."

"Shut it Toad!" Another truck screeched. "Ye stupid black sheep!"

"Is that your name, Toad?" Oliver asked the Brakevan. Toad barely whimpered a reply. "Don't let them bully you, mate. You may be an odd truck, but you're the best truck i've ever met!"

Toad smiled now, and Oliver's driver got back in. Just then, Percy came in from the sheds to begin his work, and Oliver had to move out of the yard.

"He's a nice little engine!" Toad remarked as Percy buffered up.

"The GWR characters are always nice." Percy agreed. "Except for that Brakevan Oliver brought. He's he biggest arse i've ever met!"

"The brakevan you said?" Toad asked.

"Yes." Percy replied, then hesitated as Toad smiled widely. "Are you wanting to trade places?"

Far away, on an old tramway, there is a little tram called Toby. Toby has met Sir Topham Hatt before, this year, but today, as he went down the line, he knew what was he was going to find at the Station.

Crovan Aldrich, his driver, hopped out to meet the controller. Toby didn't listen, he knew what was going to be said.

"I think that's it Toby." Henrietta, his sole coach, called. "I think we're shutting down."

"I don't think so." Toby sighed. The little old engine's frame shook as he said so. "I know so."

Crovan hugged the controller, like it was goodbye. Toby coughed, and Henrietta gently moved, bumping him slightly from behind to comfort him. "It's alright. We'll find another railway to work on."

"Henrietta, you might, but I'm a tram." Toby shuddered. "No one uses Trams anymore. Me and Flora are the only ones left alive of our class."

Crovan returned and confirmed the news, and Toby sighed ase they trundled away to their shed. They'd been given two more months. The tramway was being slowly taken over by lorries and buses, there was barely a need for Toby to run anymore except for the occasionally vacationer. Toby sighed again. He wasn't the kind to get upset. He never got upset. When he was sold away from his siblings, he wasn't upset. When Flora had pledged to never speak to him again, he wasn't upset. When he received this news, he wasn't upset.

Toby never got upset.

Toby couldn't get upset.

"It's alright. We still have two months." Crovan promised.

Toby wasn't upset.

Gordon, the great express engine of the NWR, sat in a siding at Vicarstown. He couldn't sleep today, no matter how much he wanted to. He looked around. Some vacationers took a few pictures of him, and he smiled for the camera then, but for the most part he was bored.

Vicarstown was the first stop on the island for anyone coming off the British Railways. Gordon was facing inland, and never got a good look at who would be coming in, but he always wondered who might be there. Alan? Candle? Perhaps even one of his own brothers?

"Hello there!" Gordon gasped and looked back ahead. There sat a crimson bus with a smile a wide as the island. "I'm Edgar the Bus! Aren't you the Express Engine?"

Gordon probably wouldn't have talked to the bus, but he was a prideful engine, and the bus had just hit the right note. "Why yes I am!" He boomed. "Gordon Gresley of the North Western Railway!"

"Neat!" Edgar laughed. "Me and my brother were just brought here because you don't run enough trains!"

Gordon was shocked. The bus had hiked his ego up, only to masterfully crash it. He stuttered and mumbled, and Edgar drove off laughing insanely.

He was still a bumbling mess when Oliver approached, taking his empty cars back home. "Hello Gordon… You alright?" He asked.

"Oh…!" Gordon groaned. "Be off with you!" Oliver laughed a little and blew his whistle as he passed. Had Gordon looked at the brakevan, he would have recognized him as Toad, a little escapee who'd convinced Percy to let him trade places with the GWR brake van, who was now in Knapford Yard. But Gordon didn't notice that. What Gordon did notice was what Oliver called as he passed through Vicarstown station.

"Hello Mr. Scotsman!"

Gordon about had a seizure. His boiler might have exploded in shock. In the space of two minutes, he'd been insulted by a bus, disregarded by Oliver, and then discovered the fact that his own brother was not a kilometer behind him.

No, it couldn't be his brother! Surely this was some other Scotsman! And that bus was only joking, right? Gordon was a fast engine, a very useful engine, and the best engine on the NWR. ...at least, that's what he told himself.


	13. Snowfall Part 1

**Episode 13:**

November 3rd, 1962, the first snowfall of Sodor hit, a late storm, but a snowstorm nonetheless. It fell lightly as the sun set, but as any driver could tell their engine, it was sure to get heavier in the night.

"What a pretty night." Terrence remarked to his pals. He was sitting beside the bus depot, waiting for his driver to return, and he was sitting beside the brother buses, Edgar and Bertie. "I do love it when the light makes the snowy sky light up!"

"Yea yea." Edgar rolled his eyes. "You're just a sentimental vehicle."

"While that may be, it's still a pretty night." Terrence replied. "You're thoughts Bertie?"

"Oh, I don't really care either way." Bertie sighed. "I'm just worried the road will be icy tomorrow, we may have to wait quite a while before beginning work!"

"That's fine!" Edgar cried. "Staying in our warm home later into the day? Sounds good to me!"

The Bus Depot was stationed near Wellsworth, between it and the Ffarquhar line. Thomas whistled somewhere along his line. "Ha. Stinkin engine still out in the cold and dark!" Bertie laughed. "We'll be taking your passengers if this keeps up mate!"

Suddenly, a whoosh through the station, a streak of green streaked through Wellsworth. "To think that engine used to be the most unreliable thing!" Terrence laughed, referring to Henry's newfound strength and speed thanks to the Welsh Coal. He liked keeping up in the news about the Engines of the Island, and knew the stories of all of them.

"Eh, let him break down. More passengers for us!" Bertie laughed.

"Rude!" Edgar laughed. "It's that Gordon who should break down. Thinks he's the only one on the island worthy enough to take passengers at high speeds!"

"What?" Terence gasped. "Wow, didn't take you buses to be such jerks!"

Tidmouth was rather quiet that night. Edward, Gordon and James were all asleep, and Percy was only barely awake when Thomas finally returned for the night. On a stormy night like this one, the engines had the shed doors closed in front of them while they slept, only opening them to allow in another train. Percy shivered slightly as Thomas puffed into his berth, but when Bob left and closed the door, the shed was back to being warm and quiet.

"Thomas?" Percy whispered. "How's the snow?"

"Pah!" Thomas scoffed. "Snow is silly soft stuff! Bob says I'll have to wear a snowplow tomorrow, but I hate it!"

Percy chuckled. "But Thomas, Snowplows keep us from getting stuck!"

Thomas groaned and closed his eyes. "I'll find a way around it, just you wait."

Morning came, and the snow had fallen thick. A foot of snow sat atop the rails, covering the ground, and the turntable was stuck somewhat.

"I don't want to wear a snowplow!" Thomas pouted.

"Thomas, you need to quit whining!" Gordon snapped. "You aren't being punished, it's just a mild inconvenience, you can live with that."

Thomas, Percy and Edward probably would have beaten the hypocritical express engine to bits had they hands, but rather they glared daggers as their drivers continued to fit each of the first five engine with a plow. (Percy got along without one, he only had to shunt.) "Gordon, does the same principle apply to freight cars?" Percy asked

"Of course not!" Gordon laughed. "Freight cars and coaches are a matter of dignity! An engine like me is far too dignified to shunt or pull freight cars!"

"Fine!" Thomas snapped. "I'm too dignified to wear a snowplow!"

"Thomas!" Gordon groaned annoyedly. "Snowplows do nothing to your dignity! I, too wear a snow plow, and the only effect it has is the slightest decrease in my enormous speed!"

"You'd best behave Thomas!" Henry warned. "I don't know how the snow was on your LBSCR, but here it's tough stuff."

"I dare wish there was an engine specially tasked with plowing!" Edward sighed.

"PAH!" Thomas repeated. "Snow is silly soft stuff! It won't stop me!"

"You say that now…." Bob groaned.

The day started well. Trains ran close enough to on time that no one was bothered, no engines had any accidents or major problems, and the line ran smoothly overall. This was a good thing for everybody… except Thomas.

"See!" He exclaimed suddenly as he reached Ffarquhar station. "I don't need a snowplow! Everything is going fine!"

Bob Hardy ignored him, and they continued down the line. Bob probably should have paid better attention, or perhaps he couldn't tell in the blinding snow, but Thomas began to nudge himself slightly. He would move just right to bash his snow plow into a passing rock, or hit the station platform as they entered. It started denting the plow, little by little, breaking it in more than one way.

But this breakage reached its climax as they passed Terrence. The ever-smiling orange tractor was clearing a road adjacent to the line. "Hullo!" He called as Thomas passed.

"Ah! Terrence!" Annie laughed.

"And how has the snow been for you Terrence?" Clarabel asked him.

"Don't talk to him ladies!" Thomas growled. "Oh bother." Usually, Thomas could puff quickly away from Terrence, but today he'd discovered himself stopped a a crossing, a car having broken down on the line.

"Aw, do you not like me Thomas?" Terrence laughed, fully knowing the engine's attitude towards him. "But I can do so much! Like, tow this car out of the way!"

Terrence proceeded to do just that. His driver hitched a chain to the broken car and dragged it off the line, all the while just whistling. Annie and Clarabel cheered as he tugged it away, but Thomas just wheeshed steam and hurried away.

"Good-bye Thomas!" Terrence called. He sighed and chuckled slightly as he heard a banging against the rails.

"That engine's breaking his snow plow." His driver remarked.

"Yes… I wonder how he'll make it tomorrow without one!" Terrence smiled and pulled the car to the nearest station.

That night, Thomas was the first one back to the sheds. The big engines remained pulling night trains, coincidentally all at the same time, and Percy had to shunt their trains when they finished, so Thomas was alone that night as Bob Hardy got out of his cab and gasped.

"Thomas! Your plow!" He exclaimed.

"It's rather bashed, isn't it?" Thomas declared innocently. "Ah well, I suppose I shan't have to wear it tomorrow!"

"You… You naughty engine!" Bob snapped. He slammed the shed doors on Thomas's face, but Thomas was too content with the lack of snow plow that he didn't care that his driver was mad.

Just as Thomas began drifting off, he heard Bob and a few workmen attempting to fix it. But he smiled to himself, knowing that it was very unlikely they would succeed.

So the next morning when Ivo Hugh awoke him, he found the snow plow still sat beside his shed, dented and twisted, possibly worse than he'd left it!

"Thomas… Did you break your plow?!" James demanded.

"It certainly seems that way!" Thomas laughed. "Looks like I shan't have to wear it!"

"You stupid engine." Ivo groaned. "Eagle tried this tactic once, remember what happened to Eagle anybody?"

"He got quite stuck." Henry laughed. "Stuck so good we had to wait till the snow had half-melted!"

"Snow is silly soft stuff!" Thomas shouted, repeating himself again. "It shan't stop me!"

And it didn't for a while. Thomas made it through the yards and up to his branchline via Knapford and made it Elsbridge without trouble. "It's alright here." Annie commented as they stopped at the station

"Yes, but it's sure to be deep in the valley." Clarabel replied.

"Relax ladies!" Thomas assured them. "Snow is silly so-"

"DON'T!" Bob snapped. "Don't finish that sentence one more time. I can't take it anymore."

And so, in silence, Thomas set off to the next and second-to-last station on the line, Hackenbeck.

A little old lady waved from her cottage as Thomas entered the tunnel. He whistled in reply and whooshed into the tunnel. Hackenbeck tunnel curved, and so no one thought to slow down, but as they began to see the other side, Bob gasped and applied the brakes, and Thomas cried out.

But it was too late.

A large snowdrift had fallen onto the line. The drift was taller than the tank engine, and very thick. Thomas and Bob couldn't slow down in time. They smashed into the snow drift, and were trapped in it, snow billowing on top of Thomas and packing up against all sides. Luckily, no one was hurt, but Thomas was wedged like Winnie the Pooh in Rabbit's hole, "I'm stuck!" He announced. And he was.

"Back Thomas! Back!" Annie and Clarabel chimed. Thomas tried to force himself backwards but his wheels slipped in the snow, and he couldn't move.

"Gah…" Thomas sighed. "So this isn't silly, nor soft…. But would my plow really have helped here?!"

"Maybe not, but you're still a silly engine." Called a voice from behind the snow drift. "You were warned."

"Oh Godred Crovan's grace." Thomas groaned. "Terence, have you come to mock me?" The orange tractor climbed over the snow hill without a word and hooked up to Clarabel. She giggled as he tugged her away, (Godred Crovan that sounded dirty!) and a bus honked as he took Thomas's passengers away.

Meanwhile, Bob and Terence's driver had shoveled some of Thomas's coals onto the snow drift, attempting to melt the snow. They'd also sanded the rails in an attempt to make it easier for Thomas to escape. Thomas shivered, his boiler beginning to cool, so Bob stoked his fire and prepared to move him.

Once again without speaking, Terence came up behind Thomas now. He hooked up to him and pulled, and Thomas pushed backward. Together, with a great heave, Thomas slipped out of the snow. The drift collapsed in front of him, and Terence moved to the side of the rails as they backed all the way through Hackenbeck tunnel again.

"I hope you'll be a sensible engine now, Thomas." Terence said, smiling once more.

Thomas sighed, suddenly feeling bad for the way he'd treated this tractor for the past month of knowing him. "Th-thank you Terence. I-uh, I'll try." He stumbled over his words, attempting to apologize now. "Look, I-uh… I'm sorry for-uh…"

"That's alright Thomas." Terence cut in. "I get it, you've probably never seen the likes of me, but I hope you've learned that you don't have to be a steam engine to be really useful." Terence smiled and Thomas sighed and looked away, and when he looked back, Terence was gone, his caterpillars having left a trail up the hillside.

Thomas backed up into Annie and Clarabel, and began pushing them backward down the line. "Did you learn anything today Thomas?" Bob asked.

"Yea." Thomas sighed. "Don't judge a book by it's cover?"

"What book?" Annie asked. "Just to clarify."

"Snow isn't silly soft stuff, and tractors are very useful." Thomas sighed.

The odd train reached Knapford again. Henry was there, resting for a moment before leaving with his train. "Hello Thomas! You're back early!" He called.

"Buses took over my line for the day." Thomas sighed. "Made a few dumb mistakes."

"I take it you hit a snowdrift, judging by the amount of snow covering you." Henry laughed.

"Ye stupid train!" Owen shouted from his cab. "I hope ye learned ye'r lesson 'bout snow-plows!"

"Cool it Owen." Bob shouted. "You better sleep, you've got the Flying Kipper tonight!"

"Don't mess it up Henry." Thomas laughed, taking Annie and Clarabel for Percy to put away. Little did Thomas know that tonight, Henry would mess up the Kipper.

TO BE CONTINUED


	14. Snowfall Part 2

(Author's note: Okay, if you've been following my story thus far, you'd know it's mostly comedic and chill. This episode IS NOT. This is the infamous Flying Kipper crash, and if you know what that is, it's a little downplayed in the original story. I extended the whole situation and it got pretty dark. I'm sorry, this is probably another rating up, but it's well written and I hope you still enjoy it! ~HC712)

**Chapter 14:**

Henry the big, green engine was preparing for the Flying Kipper tonight. While the other engines got to return to their sheds and sleep, Henry would rush across the island one last time before returning home. Sometimes he even slept at Vicarstown.

The Flying Kipper, for reference, was a special train of Fish. The people of the Mainland had a great demand for Knapford Herring, a special and delicious type of fish exclusively found in Knapford Harbor. A special train was arranged every two weeks, and Henry was the exclusive escort of the legendary train. One merely called, "Knapford Fish train," Henry did it fast enough that he was mistaken for Gordon while painted blue, and the train gained a the loving title of "Flying Kipper", the kippers seeming to fly down the track behind Henry.

Henry was at Knapford Harbor now as the clock struck 11. The Kipper always ran at night. He pushed his last car into place and began to move to the head of the train. He laughed to himself slightly thinking of what Gordon would say. 'A tender engine? Shunting cars for themselves? Never!' but Henry did it every time, Gordon didn't have to know.

He coupled up to the train and waited. Snow began to fall, gently at first, but it got heavier. "Och." Owen sighed. "A pretty night again, eh Henry?" Owen Bailey, his driver, pulled himself into Henry's cab.

"You've always been a man of nature Owen." Henry laughed. "But you aren't wrong. Falling snow makes the sky light up, and it's indeed the prettiest sight on Sodor."

A guard's whistle blew, Henry responded with his own, and he pulled out, headed for Vicarstown in a puff of steam.

Henry and Owen always passed the time chatting. Owen had grown up as a nature lover, like Henry had said, and he often talked about what the island's ecosystem was going through. Pollutants in the Harbor and River Els, forests being chopped apart, the mines damaging the mountains, but he never complained too much. "Now Steam is much bet'a for th' island than Diesel!" He said. "Diesels may seem mor' effectiv' at firs', it's fa' betta for Hatt to keep th's island jus' as it is!"

"I fully agree!" Henry replied as they whooshed quickly through Wellsworth.

But down the line, there was trouble. Now, on a normal Kipper night, Henry would be the last train on the rails for the day. But not tonight. Tonight, Edward was at Kellsthorpe road, a station about 2 and a half miles from its namesake town, Kellsthorpe.

Edward was sitting, resting as his Driver, Sidney, sat in the brakevan with the guard, talking and drinking hot cocoa for a moment before they made their way down the former-SSR branchline to Kirk Ronan.

"The Kipper's due soon." Sidney Heaver remarked to his buddy.

"Who cares? This is good Cocoa!" The Guard laughed, possibly having spiked his own drink. Sidney laughed and pulled his buddy from the non-sentient brake van.

Edward was perfectly fine as he stood. Henry was perfectly fine coming down the line. What wasn't fine was the snow, and a slightly broken signal.

Henry should have been stopped just before Kellsthorpe Road, preventing him from coming near Edward. But heavy snow had pushed the signal down, making it appear Henry was clear to go through the Station. But he wasn't. Edward hadn't yet moved onto the branch line.

The crash was spectacular. Not in a good way. The smash of three freight cars as Henry collided at high speed, a smash of Henry's buffers, damage to his boiler, chassis, and even his already Asthmatic smoke box, and the derailment of both trains. Edward screamed, and moved quickly away from his cars. Henry fell sideways and his cab windows smashed and controls broke, and his Tender's connections snapped completely and rolled beside him. Henry skidded alongside the track and discovered that sentient engines can bleed, and it wasn't pretty. Every Kipper car broke in some form and the whole load was destroyed. Edward's three cars that were hit were destroyed, and while Sidney Heaver and the Guard had cleared the wreckage, but Owen was nowhere to be seen as Henry finally hit is resting spot.

Edward cursed and screamed, and moved to the next track over to back up. "HENRY!" He screamed. "GODRED CROVAN'S MOTHER WHAT-" Edward stopped and looked at the crash. "What- Henry? HENRY!"

Henry's face was bleeding, he was dented and twisted across his whole frame. Edward stared in shock. "OWEN!" Edward looked up Sidney and the Guard were now holding Henry's driver in their arms, shaking him. "OWEN!"

"Sidney!?" Edward shouted.

"Get the Breakdown Crane!" The guard shouted as the smoke and steam began to clear. "Get the Breakdown Crane! Get Hatt! Get a Doctor! Get my mother!" The guard then proceeded to absolutely breakdown, sobbing.

Edward couldn't hesitate, so he chuffed backwards, fast. Tender engines weren't supposed to run backwards, it was dangerous, because he could run over his own Tender. Now was not the time for him to care. He wasn't worried about himself, he was worried about Henry.

He charged down the empty line to Tidmouth, and slammed onto the turntable, screeching his whistle and waking the whole world, he didn't care. "Percy!" he shouted. "Percy!"

"Wh-what?!" Percy woke with a start. "It's too early, and Halloween is over, what'd you want?"

"Where's the Breakdown crane?!" Edward demanded. He was still backwards, his tender facing Percy.

"What?" James gasped.

"It's in Knapford yard." Percy stated. "Why? What's happened?"

"Is it Henry!?" Thomas exclaimed.

Edward shuddered, finally taking in the moment. "Henry may be dying, and Owen Bailey is probably dead." And he ran off the turntable to Knapford yard.

"WHAT?!" The remaining four engines screamed.

"I can't move without a fire!" Percy cried, desperately trying to get out of his shed. "Where's Ivo!? Where's Neil!? Where's Hatty!?"

"Gordon?" James said suddenly. Thomas and Percy looked at the westernmost shed where the express engine sat. He was in absolute shock. He hadn't spoken yet, and was now staring dumbfounded at the turntable where Edward had just been. "Gordon, are you alright?"

"What's going on out here!?" A man shouted from Tidmouth town. "You engines are causing an insane amount of noise!"

"I'm sorry sir, but-" Thomas blustered.

"No! You engines keep waking me up!" the man shouted again. "I'm trying to sleep, my children are asleep, and you engines keep freaking waking us up!"

"WELL I'M SORRY SIR!" Gordon suddenly screamed. "BUT HENRY IS APPARENTLY DYING AND OWEN BAILEY IS-, AND I'M KIND OF LOSING MY MIND!" The following silence was awful. Gordon was red faced from both screaming and near crying, and he slammed his tender enough to move forward to the edge of the turntable well. "Sir… If you have a phone, please call my driver and Sir Topham Hatt, and tell them we need them now."

The man returned to his house while Gordon breathed heavily, and James, Thomas and Percy sat in absolute shock.

Edward now had coupled up to the Breakdown crane and was attempting to get out of the yard. He found his track slightly blocked by Fred Pelhay the truck. "What's the mess today Edward?" Fred growled. "Waking me up like this deserves an explanation."

"Move. Your. Arse." Edward ordered. Fred didn't move. "MOVE!"

"Nope. You don't give me enough respect." Fred snapped.

Edward totally lost it. He rammed the truck off the rails and charged out of the yards, cursing the names of all trucks and declaring war on all trucks, while Fred responded with similar threats and curses on all trains.

Edward charged down the line, dragging the breakdown crane behind him. Edward was without a driver, and he had less control, but he couldn't stop, not with Henry and Owens lives on the line. But he had to. Between Maron and Cronk now, his fire died. "No, NO!" Edward shouted in anger. But without a driver to keep the fire burning, or to gauge his steam usage, Edward had over-consumed his coal, and now he was stuck on the main line, with only the breakdown crane to accompany him.

Back at Tidmouth, no one had spoken yet. Gordon was shuddering slightly still. Thomas opened his mouth to comfort the big engine, but the slam of a door back across the yard took his attention. The angry parent had returned, but now the engines could see who he really was.

"James, you ready?" The man called. He was wearing a driver's uniform from another railway, and he was holding a box of matches.

"What?!" James exclaimed. "What do you want with me!?"

"M'name's Ted." he declared. "I once worked on the Great Eastern Railway, driving a troublesome engine, but now I'm a signalman here." Ted hopped aboard James and began lighting his fire. "I drove a mixed-traffic engine there, so it's best if I take you. Can you go fast?"

"Excuse me sir?" Percy peeped. "If you want to go fast, Gordon is the express engine!"

"I can't drive a big engine like him, sorry mate." Ted sighed. James's fire roared to life, and Ted jumped out and moved the turntable into position. "I've called Hatt but that's the best I can do, and I doubt Edward can clean up Henry alone!"

"Go James!" Gordon shouted. "Please."

The bright red engine nodded and steamed across the turntable. Ted jumped aboard and James raced through Tidmouth, then Knapford, and charged onto the Main line.

"It'll be alright Gordon." Thomas finally said.

"No." Gordon sighed. "If Henry is damaged enough to send Edward into that state of panic, Owen couldn't have survived. Old Man Bailey always said this job would be the death of him… and he was right."

Gordon finally began to cry. Thomas and Percy were shocked. Gordon had never appeared to be feeling in the slightest. Alway better and more powerful, and proud of it, the tank engines couldn't breathe as Gordon wept.

Edward was crying too. Stuck on the mainline with no way to reach Henry in time, he knew Henry would die if left there for so long. He cursed himself under his breath and started to drift to sleep, when he heard a valiant whistle from behind. "James?" He whispered.

The splendid red engine hit the Breakdown train from behind and slammed forward, pushing Edward and the crane with incredible speed. "C'mon Edward!" James shouted heroically. "No sleeping on this job!"

"I've never been happier to hear your voice James!" Edward cried.

The train reached Kellsthorpe Road now. It was a messy sight still, but Henry was still alive. The same could not be said for Owen. As Edward and James set the breakdown train into position, Edward looked over the wreck.

Sidney Heaver was still cradling Owen's body. Sir Topham Hatt and Jeremiah Jobling stood beside Henry, looking over the damage to the great engine, and a good worker by the name of Jem Cole was ready as soon as the engines set the Crane into position, clearing the wreckage of the trucks swiftly.

Edward was pushed by James back onto a siding. Workmen were showing up to the crash site now, helping to clear what they could. Hatt walked over to his two engines. "Thank you for your work Tonight boys." He sighed. "Henry will survive, but we'll have to send him away to be repaired. Owen… is not so lucky."

"Sir, how did this happen!?" James cried.

"A faulty signal and this snow." Hatt sighed. "No one is to blame here." Topham suddenly looked up and into James's Cab. "Who's your driver?"

Ted stepped out of his cab. "Ted Brigham, sir." He stated. "The engines woke me up, I used to drive engines and when they told me what had happened, I did what I could."

"Well I thank you, Ted." Hatt nodded. "Now if you and James could return to Tidmouth, Edward and I will do what we can here." Ted nodded and James looked around sympathetically, but they drove off, back to Tidmouth together.

"Owen is dead?" Edward asked.

"He was thrown from Henry's cabin on impact, and he was too old to have survived the fall." Topham sighed. "Lord. It's been a long night." Hatt sat on Edward's buffer beam. "It's been a bad night."

Back at Tidmouth, Ted had left James back in the sheds to tell the engines of the accident. He'd, meanwhile, gone to find the other drivers of the NWR, not caring that it was 1 in the morning by the time he got to Charlie Sand, the last one.

"And that's how it looks." Ted finished the story, sitting in the Sand home, sipping a coffee Mrs. Sand had gotten for him.

"Wow…" Charlie sighed. "We always thought something like this could happen. Me, Owen and Sidney, that is. We were the only three drivers on Sodor for a while you know."

"Well, I'm afraid this is reality." Ted sighed.

"Then a toast is in order." Charlie declared, sitting upright more and holding his coffee high. "My father would always toast the death of his army friends, a tradition I suppose I'll carry on."

"To Owen."

"To Owen."

And with that, the two men drank, while across the island, other men hurried to rescue the fallen train.


	15. Jolly Holiday

**Chapter 15:**

Christmas time was approaching, and the Island was bustling with work. Henry, following the unfortunate accident with the Flying Kipper, had been sent to a mainland works in Crewe. Save the lack of the big green engine, not much had changed on the line. Edward and James had taken to Henry's jobs as well as their own, and Percy came out of the yard every so often. But now, with the holiday-makers coming in droves for Sodor's famous holiday spirit, the work was getting to be too much.

"So what do we do about it?" Lady Jane Hatt sighed, she and her husband having looked over traffic graphs from previous years and looked at their schedule for the upcoming week.

"I think I need another engine, even just temporarily!" Topham declared. "With Henry gone, this is getting to be ridiculous, and the foreman of Crewe just wrote, Henry won't be back anytime soon."

"So… I assume we're looking for another sentient Steam engine?" Jane sighed. "Yet another member of this dying race?"

Topham laughed, but she was right. He was looking for another sentient Steamie. Diesels may have been more powerful nowadays, but Topham was a preservational railway, and he wanted steam to dominate Sodor.

"_What kind of engine are you?" Henry asked Percy. _

"_I think I was an Avonside Trojan Saddle tank once." Percy peeped. "I don't remember anymore. I had a mess-up in on the GWR and they did me over."_

"_So now you're just… a Caterpillar class?" Henry joked._

"_Whatever I am, I'm definitely a class of my own." Percy agreed. There was silence for a minute, then Percy asked: "But the real question is, What kind of engine are you?"_

Henry faded in and out of conscious. Despite it having been some time since the accident, he remained a mess. Percy's question from the summertime rebounded in his mind. What kind of engine was he then? And what was he now?"

"Ah, Esta despierto de nuevo!" Shouted one of the doctor engines. Crewe had a few shunters alongside it's workmen called 'Doctor engines'. These engines were used to transport workmen and parts quickly, and to help the sick engines move in and out. This one was bright yellow, and had been helping Henry most of his time here. "¡Necesito más polvo para dormir para Henry!" He shouted

Henry didn't know what language this doctor spoke but he sighed and looked away. In the wall, he found a mirror, and looked at himself in somewhat horror. The coverings of his inside were removed. His painted body parts lay near him, and workmen were inside his boiler and smokebox now, working, and Henry couldn't feel them.

He returned to Percy's question once more. 'What kind of engine was he?' He'd been a shoddy knock off of the Pacific A1's at first, with a bad inside, but what about now? What were they rebuilding him into now? He looked carefully. Eagle had taught him much about identifying engine classes, and he could see the parts of him that were Pacific, but there were other things there now too. Stainer parts, like a Black Five class.

"Aquí tienes, amigo. Esto ayudará." The Doctor engine approached and connected a tanker car to his side again. Henry felt himself become tired again and as he drifted off, he remembered what he'd told Percy that day.

"_I'm a screw up. But that's alright."_

"Bloody buses!" Thomas grumbled. He was waiting at Knapford Yard beside the noisy bus depot. James had just barely run out of steam on the crossing, so Thomas was stuck waiting till Edward or Percy could pull the stupid red engine out of the way.

"Beep Beep Beep!" Called a bus, who pulled up to Thomas. "Hullo! I'm Bertie the bus."

"Last time a sentient non-train said that sentence, I didn't like the fellow." Thomas rolled his eyes, referring to his first meeting with Terrence. "Ah well. Hello Bertie. My name is-"

"Thomas!" Bertie cut in. "Yes I remember you, I took your passengers when you were stuck in a snowdrift!" Thomas rolled his eyes yet again as Annie and Clarabel snickered.

Thomas recalled Bob's words from long ago. 'Don't ever mess up Thomas, I promise they will never, ever let you live it down.' He groaned, realizing the truth to it. "Yes, well I don't do that anymore. Hit snowdrifts, that is." He replied.

"Right!" Bertie laughed. "Because now you go slow!"

"Slow!?" Thomas gasped. Annie and Clarabel groaned, knowing full well where this was going now. "I'm not slow! Why I could beat you bus anyday!"

Percy was now struggling backwards, pulling James and his coaches into Knapford Station. With a heave and a wheesh, Percy succeeded, and Thomas stormed off to his Branchline.

"How about it Thomas?" Bertie called after him, revving his engine and pulling alongside Thomas on the road that followed his line. "You want to put that theory to the test? You're faster than me?"

"I have jobs to do!" Thomas shouted back.

"Tonight!" Bertie called, the road now veering away from the rails. "Our last jobs each run at the same time! Your train versus my road! Winner take it all!" And with that, Bertie was now too far away to hear.

"Takes what all!?" Annie demanded.

"I believe he means all the passengers!" Clarabel replied.

"That doesn't make any sense, they have different jobs, with different Passengers!" Annie calculated aloud.

"Exactly." Clarabel moaned. "This is a bad idea."

"Sorry ladies." Thomas laughed. "If it's a race that bus wants, SO BE IT!" And Thomas sped down his line, Annie and Clarabel screaming for mercy behind him.

But as Thomas was chuffing away from Knapford, Gordon was just entering with the Express. He breathed heavily, the snow making it difficult for him to make it up his namesake hill every day. He was happy to uncouple and pull away from his train just now, and as Percy dragged the Wild Nor' Wester away, he pulled into a siding to sleep till his next train was due.

He was just drifting off, Charlie Sand making his way into Knapford city, when Sir Topham Hatt arrived and summoned Charlie back. "Gordon! Good, you aren't busy."

"Oh good…" Gordon grumbled. "Yes sir?"

"I have a train for you to take." Hatt ordered. "With Henry gone, you won't have time to take a nap! Now go fetch the trucks over in- oh dear." Topham had made a fatal mistake… he'd sent Gordon to fetch a goods train.

Gordon roared in anger. He shouted dirty words Topham had only heard from him and tried to lock his brakes in, but wise old Edward buffered up to him from behind and pushed him past the station, and into Tidmouth Yard where Percy had assembled his train.

"You just had to say trucks, didn't you?" Charlie groaned, walking dangerously across the tracks after his engine.

Edward pushed a fuming Gordon onto the turntable at Tidmouth Sheds and Sidney Heaver got out of Edward to turn it. Gordon was growling and seething. He tried to move into a shed but the table began to move. Then there was trouble. Gordon had moved too quick and he slid off the table, missing the sheds, the tracks, the yard, and the random group of children and landing bufferbeam-first into a dirty ditch. He cried out as the mud splashed his face. "Get me out! Get me out!" He shouted.

"Not a hope!" Charlie moaned, running into the yard. "You great stupid engine! You're stuck!"

"Gordon!" Edward scolded. "Who's to take the train now!?"

Sidney Heaver tried to adjust the turntable again, only to possibly damage it, so he gave up and returned to Edward. Charlie sat on the well's edge and some nearby children began laughing and singing to the tune of "Here we go 'round the Mulberry bush", saying: "Silly old Gordon fell in a ditch- All on a monday morning!"

"But it's Thursday you buffoons!" Gordon growled at them, scaring them away.

"Ready?" Jobling called out. "Set…."

The sun was setting on Sodor and the Ffarquhar branch line was the center of attention for most Sudrians right now. Bertie and Thomas had made a fuss to their passengers all day long, telling them about the race and how they were the faster vehicle, so now both of them were full of people, and Jeremiah Jobling was excited to be the judge.

"GO!" He shouted, and jumped inside Bertie. Thomas and Bertie both released as much power as they could and WHOOSH. They were gone. Down the Ffarquhar line they went. Thomas at full steam and Bertie's engine roaring, the road followed the track for a stretch till Hackenbeck station.

Thomas stopped to let on Passengers. "Quickly please!" He shouted, Bertie also collecting. The passengers moved swiftly. It seemed like everybody knew about the race! ...there must not have been a lot to do on the island.

Bertie, being smaller, managed to move first, but Thomas wasn't worried. He had remembered the level crossing just beyond Maithwaite, and he knew if he kept his pace, Bertie would lose his lead there.

Thomas ended right, and he zoomed past Bertie, who was growling and revving at the the crossing. Thomas laughed and blew his whistle, and continued into Elsbridge Station.

"Haha! Who's behind now, Thomas?!" Bertie laughed. Thomas gasped. While he had to let off passengers at Elsbridge, there was no one at the bus stop here. Bertie zoomed on by Thomas as Bob Hardy filled Thomas's tanks quickly.

They sped after the bus. He wasn't much farther ahead, but he did have a lead, and the line split from the Road soon after Elsbridge. Thomas puffed hard, till he reached Dryaw. Stopping quickly he looked to Knapford, but he couldn't see Bertie. He wheeshed out of the station and scurried on the track, and he discovered Bertie was once again stopped at a traffic light. Thomas laughed and blew his whistle again.

"No!" Bertie sped through the light without a second thought, and it was close coming into Knapford, but Bertie was just too late. Thomas stopped at the station ahead of him, winning the competition.

Huzzahs and cheers came from his passengers as Bertie pulled into the station. "Congratulations Thomas." Bertie huffed, clearly out of breath. "I respect a fair win like that. To catch you i'd have to… fly!" He laughed as the passengers cleared both of them.

"Bertie!?" Topham roared. "What on earth are you doing INSIDE the station?! Your stop is over there!" Bertie quickly scooted out and winked at Thomas, who was smiling proudly.

"You two certainly finished your jobs fast!" Hatt boomed. "I hope you haven't left anyone behind!"

Hatt turned away from Thomas, who was just about to pull his cheering coaches into the yard when they all heard a strange whistle. Thomas stopped and looked at the main line. There, due west from Vicarstown, was a Marklin Tank Engine. "Who's that!?" Thomas gasped. But it didn't matter. The engine wasn't sentient.

The Marklin engine pulled into the station and stopped. It was unnerving, seeing a dead yet moving engine like that. The driver hopped out and spoke with Hatt, while Thomas pushed Annie and Clarabel into the yard.

"Peep Peep! A Marklin Engine!" Percy stated as Thomas pulled out of the yard. "I wonder what it's doing here!"

"You seem excited." Thomas remarked.

"I am!" Percy replied. "How Exotic! An non-sentient engine? On Sodor? Never! I hope he's here to pull Gordon out!"

"Gordon? What's Gordon done?"

Percy smiled mischievously and began singing: "Silly old Gordon fell in a ditch, all on a Monday morning!"

"Monday!? But it's Thursday!" But Percy just laughed and puffed away. Thomas was baffled till he reached Tidmouth. Then he understood.

9 PM, the breakdown train was hooked to Gordon's chassis at multiple angles. James and the Marklin engine were pulling the chains hard, carefully dragging Gordon out and back onto the jammed turntable.

"Keep pulling, Quiet one!" James shouted randomly to the Marklin Engine.

The Marklin Engine didn't reply.

They at last heaved the express engine out and re-attached his tender. "Curse you big engines!" Topham shouted as Gordon was pushed into the side-shed by Edward. "Always causing me trouble!"

"Sir- I" Gordon stuttered

"Shut it!" Sir Topham Hatt ordered. "I want no excuses! Gordon, let me be clear. The second that Henry returns, you lose the Express!"

"Sir!" Edward gasped. Gordon had always pulled the Express, ever since Alan and Candle had left he had.

"Don't bother me Edward!" Hatt growled. "Go to sleep! I want no more nonsense for the rest of the Christmas season!"

The engines were dumbfounded, except for the Marklin Engine, who didn't react. James and Edward pulled into their berths, Gordon was left in the side-shed to make sure he was still functional, and Thomas and Percy slowly pulled in afterward. The Marklin Engine was put in Henry's berth and it's driver and fireman shut off it's steam and left it there. "What are you lookin' at!?" one of them growled to James.

"It's odd, for us." Edward remarked.

"Eh, I'm used to non-sentient engines." Percy replied.

"I'm so confused!" James cried. "Is he here to replace Henry? Is he here to help? Is it a he or a she? OR AN IT?!"

"Calm down James!" Edward snapped. "It's here on a loan from West Germany. He'll be helping out until the holidays are over and we go back to a normal schedule.

"Oh." Thomas sighed. "Good. I don't like looking at him. He might kill me."

"It's not a he… it's not anything." James shuddered.

The Marklin Engine didn't reply.


	16. Repercussions

**Chapter 16:**

The new year had come. January 15th of 1963. Henry had yet to return to working duty, though the workers of Crewe had high hopes for his return by the end of the month. The high of the New Year was empty, and the Marklin Engine's presence still disturbed the island. With a slow in traffic and many gloomy winter days, the engines had much to think about.

Thomas was doing just this as he puffed along his branchline. Thinking. He was quite deep in thought as he went along. What he was thinking about doesn't matter, but he wasn't quite focused on where he was going. Nor was Bob, who'd just received a Dear John letter from his girl in Harwick, so neither really were paying attention to the amount of snow on the line.

"Stop! Stop!" Came a calling voice as they neared Hackenbeck tunnel. Thomas reacted first and slowed, allowing Bob to apply the brakes. Thomas looked up as he slowed, finally noticing a pileup of snow, in a very familiar spot.

He looked back to where the voice had stopped him and saw it had come from the cottage on the hillside. A little old woman was waving some red cloth on a stick and was calling the warning.

"Why it's old Mrs. Kyndley!" Bob cried. "Thank you Madam!"

"Are you alright Mr. Hardy?" Mrs. Kyndley called.

"We're fine!" He replied. "Can you phone for Terence to come clear the way?"

Mrs. Kyndley stepped back inside her house, leaving Thomas waiting in front of the snow bank. Thomas could hear Annie and Clarabel reassuring the passengers about the delay. Thomas groaned, realizing the likelihood of a bus taking his passengers again, till he heard a strange noise. He looked to the road and saw a policeman approaching.

Now, Policemen had come to Thomas before, and Thomas was friends with several of them, but this one seemed quite angry. Thomas was worried now. "Hello sir!" He said. "What can I do for you?"

The Policeman didn't respond at first, merely looked around the tank engine, with a notebook and pencil in hand. "Eh-heh!" He finally grunted. "Just as I thought!"

"What is?" Bob asked.

"Where is your cowcatcher!?" The policeman demanded of Thomas.

"But I don't catch cows, sir!" Thomas replied, genuinely confused at the question.

"Don't be smart with me!" the Policeman snapped. "It's required by law that engines along this section of line must have cowcatchers equipped at all times!"

"What?!" Bob gasped. "But we've never had a cowcatcher! And we've never had an accident!"

"That makes it even worse!" The policeman replied. He ripped a page from his notebook and wrote on the next page. "Regular Rule-breaker." He said as he scribbled and broke his pencil angrily. Terence was now working ahead of Thomas, swiftly moving the snow from his path. Bob tried to argue with the Policeman, but the jerk marched off growling about the volume of whistles.

Mrs. Kyndley had come out from her cottage now, and she approached carefully through the snow. "What's the trouble boys?" she asked, kindly.

"Apparently we're breaking the law Ma'am." Bob sighed, tossing the paper into Thomas's fire. "I'm willing to bet this policeman is a new one, and he's certainly not happy about-" Bob stopped as Mrs. Kyndley began to cough horribly, a wheezing, gasping sort of cough. "Why Mrs. Kyndley! You're not well!"

"Oh it's just a cold, it'll pass." She replied, coughing once more. "Speaking of passing, your path seems clear now."

"I think you can push through now Thomas!" Terence called.

"Good luck Bob." Mrs. Kyndley sighed. "I hope this Policeman doesn't cause you any more trouble!"

"Goodbye Mrs. Kyndley!" Thomas peeped before chuffing off again, shoving the snow from his path and heading on to Hackenbeck station.

Gordon, believe it or not, was asleep in a siding of Knapford station. Now, often times he'd be woken up by a cheeky tank engine, occasionally he'd be accidentally awoken by Edward or James, an even rarer he'd actually get to sleep for the time. But today, he was awoken by a shrieking whistle from behind. "Godred Crovan! Percy!? Your New Year's Resolution was to stop that!" Gordon growled. When no response came, he called again. "Thomas? I thought you were on your branchline!" No response again. "Edward? James?"

A short, black tank engine rolled up beside him. Gordon shuddered. Even the most natural of things could be shocking and unnatural from the un-living Marklin Engine.

"Oh. Hello there." Gordon sighed. He was in need of an engine to talk to. He could hardly sleep in the sheds with the Marklin engine nearby, and he certainly couldn't nap now. Luckily, the Marklin engine moved on, towing a line of trucks behind him due for Ballahoo.

"Not the easiest thing to see, i'm sure." Came a kind but firm voice from the station. Gordon could just see Sir Topham Hatt's round belly sticking over the platform. "I wish I could have gotten a sentient engine, even just for the temporary jobs."

"It's just a little unnatural sir." Gordon replied. "It's alright though."

"Unnatural, Gordon?" Sir Topham Hatt chuckled. "Quite on the contrary my friend, but I must ask you: What is Unnatural? To find a man-made machine functioning under the control of a man and remaining it's servant, or to find such a man-made machine suddenly gain life? Talking, running itself, controlling itself entirely?"

Gordon considered this. He looked back ahead, watching the line of cars disappear around the corner far ahead, pulled not by the Marklin Engine, but the drivers of the Marklin Engine. Gordon almost felt bad for the train, realizing his own freedom

Topham smiled, satisfied that he'd humbled his engine for the time being, and turned back to his office. There, Ted Brigham stood, Topham having summoned him for a meeting. "Hello sir?" Ted said as Topham approached. "You called for me?"

"Ted!" Hatt laughed and shook his hand. "Step into my office!"

Topham and Ted walked inside Knapford Station, where the Controller's office was located. They stepped inside. The office had changed some since Topham had begun working. First of all, some things had been damaged and left unrepaired since Lowham's stint as controller, like the vase or the old picture of the original six engines. But it was littered with papers, Topham having been a poor organizer since his starting days.

"Ted, I want to offer you a job." Hatt stated at last, sitting behind his large desk.

"What?" Ted laughed. "But i've got a job! Here on your railway!"

"Of course." Topham nodded. "I meant a new job! A… I suppose a promotion!" Ted looked intrigued. "You were quite the help the day of Henry's accident, and as you know, we… lost, Henry's driver that day."

"Sir?" Ted interrupted. "Are-Are you offering I become Henry's new driver?"

The door slammed open. Topham would have replied in confirmation to Ted, but Bob Hardy suddenly burst through the door. "SIR!" Bob called. He looked at Ted and recognized he'd interrupted something. "I-I'm sorry sir, but this can't wait."

"Alright Bob, this had better be good!" Topham groaned.

"There's a new Policeman down the Ffarquhar line." Bob explained. "He says we can't run up past Hackenbeck without cowcatchers!"

"What?" Topham gasped. "But I checked the codes when I built that line, there is nothing in there that requires cowcatchers on the line!"

"Well we're stuck now!" Bob groaned. "The policeman's forbidden us from going up that part of the line! What are we supposed to do?"

Far away, on the LNERailway, on a branchline tramway that had just recently been shut down, there sat a Tram. He'd been left there for an indefinite amount of time.

Toby the tram was asleep. Using the special drug designed to allow an engine to sleep till their fire was lit again, or until they were scrapped. His line had been closed the previous month, and he'd been left with low hopes of a revival. But he wasn't upset.

So when his driver suddenly burst open the door that morning, it wasn't expected. Crovan Aldrich was quick to stoke the fire of the old engine. "Wake up my boy!" Crovan called excitedly.

"What on earth?" Toby groaned, shaking and shivering to wake himself up. "Did- Did they reopen the line!?"

"Better!" Crovan laughed. "You remember the stout Sudrian man who owned the Railway on Sodor?"

"Of course!"

"He wants us!" Crovan jumped excitedly for a 40 year old man. "He needs another engine, and he just called for us to come and work for him!"

Toby was speechless, a common problem recently, a loss for words. But he laughed as his warm fire spread through his old body. "Can we go fetch Henrietta?" He asked excitedly.

"I suppose, and hope the LNER won't get at us for stealing rolling stock." Crovan replied.

Toby moved quicker than he had for years, taking Henrietta from the old Rolling Stock sheds and racing down the line.

Thomas sat by the Bus Depot in Knapford, muttering annoyedly to himself. The whole day he'd been prevented from going beyond Hackenbeck tunnel, and Edgar and Bertie the buses had been taking his passengers the rest of the way. James whistled by as Thomas waited for Bob to get back from the bathroom, and Bertie rolled up. "Hello mate." Bertie said. "You look mad."

"Have you met that new policeman?" Thomas shouted.

"Just did!" Bertie laughed angirly. "Remember that race you and I had a while back?"

"Of course."

"Well the bloody idiot ticketed me for speeding back then!" Bertie yelled. "And then today, I went just a bit over the limit and he ticketed me again and dragged off me driver! Lucky I can drive myself but NO! I got ticketed and sent back here for that!"

"Well we aren't supposed to go without our drivers." Thomas sighed.

"All the same, that man is driving me insane!" Bertie roared his engine with this, creating an extra emphasis on 'Insane'. "He got you too then?"

"Told me I needed a cowcatcher to run to Ffarquhar!" Thomas laughed. "That's why your brother's been running that section of the line."

"Cowcatchers?" Bertie laughed. "It'd make you look like a tram!"

"And what's wrong with Trams?" Said a new voice. Thomas and Bertie looked up to see an old tram engine trundle off the Main line up to them. "Hello. I'm Toby! Is this the NWR?"

"Well it looks like Hatty solved your problem." Bertie laughed, and drove away quickly.

"A tram!" Thomas gasped. "Well hello then Toby, you're in the right place! I've been prevented from running part of my Branchline because I don't have cowcatchers!" Thomas indicated Toby's lower half (His wheels area) as he said this. "I'm willing to bet that's why you're here!"

"Well good!" Toby laughed. "It feels good to be needed!"

Gordon thundered past right then, whistling loudly. He stopped at Knapford and Thomas brought Toby to the tracks beside the big engine. "Gordon, meet-"

"-TOBY!" came a booming voice from the express. Sir Topham Hatt excitedly disembarked the Wild Nor' Wester and ran up to the tram engine. "Good to see you've met some of my engines!

"Hello again sir!" Toby's driver stepped off and shook hands with the controller of NWR.

"Crovan!" Hatt laughed. "So glad to see you."

"Wait! Sir!" Gordon called back. "If this engine is here, does that mean the Marklin Engine is going away?"

"We'll see, Gordon." Hatt replied, smiling. "But for now, please take Toby to Tidmouth, he'll need a rest after that ride here."

So Gordon and Thomas puffed down the line back to Tidmouth, Toby trundling along just behind him.


	17. Tram on the line

**Chapter 17:**

Ivo Hugh was awake early once more. The sun had yet to come over the horizon on the frozen morning of January 16th, and he was on his way to Tidmouth sheds. Today, rather than stop beside the main six-berthed sheds, he stopped beside the work shed. Usually reserved specifically for engines in need of overnight repairs and paint jobs, it was currently occupied by the new engine, Toby the Tram, as it was the only available shed for the night.

Ivo Hugh's job, being the firelighter, was to start the engine's fire and get sentient engines awake. However, he was surprised to discover Toby was already awake when he arrived!

"Ah, hello there!" The tram smiled kindly. "I suspect you are the firelighter?"

"Oh!" Ivo started. "Hullo."

"Sorry to surprise you." Toby laughed. "I'm used to waking up on my own. You can come light my fire, but I'm not the quiet type!"

"Well then!" Ivo laughed. "It's good to meet another early riser like myself!" Toby laughed at this. "I mean it! These other engines take so long to wake up!"

"Let me see if I can help!" Toby smiled. A sudden ringing echoed through the sheds, vibrating Ivo Hugh to his core. His poker tumbled off the Tram as he stumbled to the floor, covering his ears. "Wow! I did not expect that to be so loud!" Toby laughed.

"Godred Crovan!" Edward shouted.

"I'm awake!" Shouted James.

"We're under attack!" Thomas cried.

"It's the Russians!" Percy shrieked.

"EXPRESS COMING THROUGH!" Gordon screamed over all of them.

The Marklin engine didn't react.

The five engines breathed heavily, then looked over at last to the work shed, where Ivo Hugh and Toby sat laughing hysterically. Toby, as everyone had now discovered, did not have a steam whistle like every other engine, but a brass bell atop his roof. The unexpected ringing of it had easily awoken all of the other sentient engines.

"Certainly makes my job easier!" Ivo laughed as he finished Toby's fire. "Thank you Tobias!"

"My name's just Toby." Toby replied.

After the spectacle of the morning, the engines had no trouble getting to work. Thomas took Toby up his branchline and taught him the timetable, and Henrietta worked nicely with Annie and Clarabel. At Hackenbeck station, they'd exchange passengers, and it flowed nicely. The angsty policeman sat at the station for the entire day, as if he expected them to break the agreement, but they never did.

"He's a nice old engine, now isn't he?" Annie said at some point the following day.

"Quite!" Clarabel replied. "And his little coach isn't mean either!"

"His little coach?" Thomas laughed. "Henrietta deserves more respect than that! What do you think she might say of you to Toby?" Annie and Clarabel stopped gossiping for sometime after that comment. And Thomas quietly and calmly puffed along the Ffarquhar line. Until he broke down just after Dryaw. "Botheration!" Thomas cursed.

"Your safety valve has broken Thomas!" Bob Hardy cried. "I'll call ahead, I guess it's a good thing Toby came along after all!"

"Oh goody. The tram's been here one day and now he gets my line!" Thomas groaned.

"That tram?" Annie laughed. "Thomas! Doesn't Toby deserve more respect than that?"

"What do you think he might say of you to Henrietta?" Clarabel finished.

"Hardy har." Thomas spat.

"Are you mocking my name?" Bob Hardy laughed.

It was a good thing Toby was a fast learner. He took Annie and Clarabel, and hooked them right on to Henrietta and got to work quickly. It's essential to work fast on a railway with inconsistent numbers of Engines.

Toby came down to Knapford station that day to collect his first full train of passengers. Thomas was being shunted away by the Marklin Engine at that moment, and Thomas didn't seem to happy about that. As he sat waiting for his passengers, James pulled up beside him. "Yecch!" James exclaimed.

"Excuse me?" Toby asked, somewhat shocked.

"What dirty objects!" James replied. "You two are filthy!" James was referring to Toby and Henrietta's paintwork, of course, which hadn't been cleaned or repainted in a long time.

"Oh." Toby said, attempting to ignore James.

"I'm a splendid red engine!" The splendid red engine announced. "You never see my paint dirty or looking like Rabbish!"

"Rabbish?" Henrietta laughed. "You mean Rubbish?"

"Of course!" James sneered. "And don't you go making that a thing! I'm a good engine with wonderful paintwork! Unlike you, and I'm ready for anything!"

"Oh?" Toby finally had had enough. "I suppose that's why you needed bootlaces once." Annie and Clarabel snickered. "To be ready, that's it James?"

James is a red-painted engine, as you probably know. But as Toby reminded James of a mistake he'd made early on, James went unexplainably redder. This shouldn't have been possible, but it was.

The conductor blew his whistle and Toby pulled out of Knapford and up Thomas's Branch line. James remained fuming at the station till it was his time to go on his slow freight train, a train that stopped at every station on the former South Sodor Railway Branch Lines line to pick up and set down cars due for Vicarstown. James hates this job, and Percy knows it.

"Careful James!" Percy laughed as he pushed the first cars into place. "This is a slow train! You can't go fast!"

"Ha!" James laughed. "I can do as I please!"

Anyone who's watched James' track record should know that when James does as he pleases, it doesn't usually work out.

"Gentilmente ahora Henry!" Victor the engine doctor called out. Henry was now going through a series of tests at Crewe, as they were preparing to send him home, and testing his ability to function.

"That means 'Gently now!" A Diesel engine doctor translated.

Henry was going around a loop line near the works, watched by Victor and the Works Diesel. They were currently watching his brakes, and Victor was reminding him to be gentle to them, as they'd had some small changes made. Henry was also currently without a driver, so that his tests were showing exclusively his own capabilities. Henry did as told as he re-entered the works, and braked gently, stopping just in front of the Works Diesel.

"Very good!" the Crewe manager said. "It's good to see you running so smoothly!"

"Thank you sir!" Henry beamed. "I'm glad to be back on the rails too! And these… modifications are so much better!"

"I think we can send him home the end of this week!" the Works Diesel stated. "Sir?"

"I think so too."

Meanwhile, James was still grumbling and cursing at the trucks. It was getting darker, and he was still at Kirk Ronan, waiting for a tractor to drag a car away. He was so busy complaining to his driver, Geoffrey Black, that he didn't hear the trucks plotting. He'd bumped several of them rudely, and the trucks had been plotting for the past month.

"This is our chance!" Fred Pelhay encouraged the trucks. "My mates up the way are in position, and now it's time to strike back against the engines!" Fred was holding fast to his promise to Edward, a war had begun in his mind, and he planned to get every one of the engines hurt. "On the way back up the line, we push 'im into the the tankers at Kellsthorpe Road!"

The trucks agreed, and James was none the wiser.

"-and then that coach looked at me funny!" James whined.

"Believe me James," Geoffrey groaned. "You keep this up and a lot more than just one coach will look at you funny, stupid prat!"

"Hurtful!" James moped. Luckily, the conductor's whistle blew right then, and James and his line of plotting trucks banged, yelled, and finally puffed out of the station, back up the branchline toward Kellsthorpe Road.

Up at Kellsthorpe Road, Edward stopped with his load. Behind him was the line of tar wagons Fred had spoken of. Edward stopped as a few other trucks were rearranged, then puffed away, leaving the tar wagons behind as he was supposed to.

Back on the branchline, James puffed up a hill, happy with himself as he made it up with ease and without accident. Then the Trucks pushed him.

"Not again!" Geoffrey cried out.

"No! Not my paint!" James cried.

It's easy to figure out what happened next, so i'll spare you the details of the accident, except for the comedy gold moment, just before they crashed, when Geoffrey looked up to see what they were about to impact with.

"What in tarnation!?" He shouted before ducking out of the red engine's cab.

"A pun?! Are you-" James sentence was cut off as his face slammed into the trucks, tar spilling beautifully across his body and the surrounding area.

Meanwhile, Toby was back at Knapford with his last train of the day. He kindly put Annie, Clarabel and Henrietta in the yards while Percy was busy assembling a train for the Marklin Engine. As he pulled back into Knapford Station, and the Marklin Engine chuffed away, Sir Topham Hatt stepped out and approached Toby, flicking some dust off his hat. "So Toby?" He asked, setting his top hat upon his round, bald head. "How's your day been?"

"Fine sir!" Toby smiled. "I hope Thomas is alright?"

"Thomas will be fine, given a day or two for repairs." Hatt reassured. "But It can't just be one engine, now can it?"

"Pardon me sir?"

"I need you and Percy to go to Kellsthorpe Road and rescue James!" Hatt groaned. "He's gotten himself in another bloody mess of tar and now he's derailed! I've already told Percy, who's gone to collect the Breakdown Crane, so i'll need you to finish his train while Percy brings him back home." Toby laughed and and began to chuff away, but Topham called out. "Don't mock him please."

Toby didn't give any real response, but merely puffed away, Percy coming up just behind him.

They moved quickly to Kellsthorpe Road, laughing all the way as Toby recounted a similar situation he'd once been in. They slowed at the station to see a hysterical sight. James had, to say the absolute least, ruined his paint. Fred Pelhay was currently sitting off the rails, upside down and laughing hysterically, while a congregation of other sentient trucks laughed or moaned from injury. The tankers were not sentient, but had they been, they would certainly be dead, and parts of them lay across the tracks, station, and James.

"Well well well." Toby sighed, looking over James. James wasn't damaged, but he was covered in tar and bemoaning his paint job. "Whatever is that dirty object Percy?"

"What do you mean?" Asked Percy. "That's James!" Percy was genuinely confused at Toby's comment.

"Why it's James' shape!" Toby laughed, taking this moment to retaliate from James' earlier comments. "But it can't be James, you'd never see his paint in such a state of Rabbish!"

"Oh!" Percy laughed, catching on now. "You're right! James is a splendid engine, ready for anything! This can't be him, he wouldn't have been caught so off guard with trucks! Not after that last crash!"

James screamed here, then proceeded to shout indistinctly. There was probably some curses he'd picked from Gordon, some Latin from Thomas, and some general shouting from Topham's various orders, but Toby and Percy couldn't make out the screaming. Rather, they moved the crane into place and Toby pulled away the trucks.

"Looks like a mess!" Terrence laughed. He'd been called to help get rid of the mess at the station. "This prat get in another accident?"

"BEGONE TRACTOR!" James screamed like a madman as Terrence came closer.

"Ignore him mate." Neil O'Heart, Percy's driver, told Terrence.

That night at the sheds, James took to the Work shed. Thomas was moved into his berth in Tidmouth Sheds, and Toby sat beside the Marklin Engine in James' berth.

"How are you feeling Thomas?" Edward asked kindly.

"I'll be fine in come Friday." Thomas coughed. "But you know how you should be asking?"

"IM FINE EDWARD!" James screamed psychotically. "THANKS FOR ASKING! ALSO, THANKS FOR CREATING A WAR WITH THE TRUCKS!"

"He's on one, isn't he?" Gordon groaned.

"YOU'RE ONE TO TALK, GORDON!"

"OI!" Came a different scream. Ted Brigham, who lived in Tidmouth just beyond the yard, had stepped out once more to ask for the engines silence. "P-Please?"

"Sorry mate, we're going to sleep now." Edward replied. Ted disappeared and Edward looked to James warningly. "James?"

"He'll be quiet." Toby reassured. "Because if he isn't, I'll tell all the trucks about the bootlaces."

Thomas, Edward, Gordon, James and Percy gasped, the Marklin Engine didn't react. "N-never!" Thomas stuttered.

"We engines may have our disagreements, but never-" Edward began.

"-We don't ever talk about that to the trucks!" Gordon finished.

"That would be… awful!" Percy added.

"Awful's not quite the word I would use…" Gordon thought.

"I'm understand, gents." Toby whispered. "But how else does one quiet an engine like that?"

The Marklin Engine didn't react, but the other engines silently agreed. Toby, though having been on the railrway only one day, had just settled himself soundly as the wisest engine of them all.


	18. The 3 R's, Part 1: Return

_Hello to my good readers! I'd just like to say something real quick. I am American, got it? So to any Englishmen reading the story, i'm sorry if i'm butchering the slang, I don't know how you guys really talk, so I hope I don't offend anyone!_

_Also, this is about to be a three parter, hope you enjoy the way i've formatted these stories!_

_-HunterCreeper712_

_[]_

**Chapter 18:**

A series of heavy wheels thundered down the line. A big, green engine who'd been too long away from home charged down the main line of the NWR and passed Kellsthorpe Road. He let out a long toot of his deep whistle as he sped through Cronk Station, and he laughed as he passed Maron, looking ahead to his greatest test of the day. A hill the engine had once struggled up even on his best days lay directly ahead, and he charged. Without a driver, it might have been difficult, but Gordon's hill was now crossed with ease as Henry's new boiler bubbled and his wheels spun with power.

At Knapford station, only two engines currently sat there. The morning was turning to day, and Toby was waiting on his passengers with Annie, Clarabel and Henrietta, while the Marklin Engine sat beside him waiting on Percy to bring his cars. Toby was happily humming to himself as he heard a whistle he hadn't heard before. He looked down the line to see the great, green engine streaking down the line proudly.

"Well well well!" Toby said quietly. "That must be Henry!"

"What did you say about me up there?" Henrietta snapped, thinking she'd heard her name.

"No, not you m'dear." Toby laughed. "This gent!"

Henry wheeshed steam as he stopped, looking very confused as he looked around the station. "Well this is Knapford, otherwise I'd think I was on the wrong railway!" He said, glancing at the two engines. "Who am I even looking at? Why doesn't that guy have a face?"

"Hold up mate!" Toby laughed, the coaches joining him. "It's alright, you're on the right line! I'm Toby, helping Thomas with the Ffarf- Farfg- Faquad… his branchline!"

"It's pronounced Ffarquhar." Henry sighed. "And what's with this guy? What's Hatt thinking, getting a non-sentient engine to work on this line?!"

"We call him the Marklin Engine." Toby explained. "Don't worry, I think he's meant to leave as soon as you returned!"

"Henry!" Squealed a higher voice from behind the Marklin Engine. Percy peeped his whistle and came around beside the Marklin Engine. "Henry! You're back! I'm so glad to see you!"

"Percy!" Henry responded. "Good! A face I recognize! Where's Gordon?"

"He'd still be at Tidmouth." Percy replied. "He's not pulling a train till later anyway. Gosh, it's great to have you back! We can finally get rid of that lump of iron!"

The Marklin Engine didn't react to this comment, simply pulled out of the station and went up the line.

[]

"-and that's when I said, 'I'd rather be a standard gauge with a narrow mind than a narrow gauge with any mind!" James' punchline was pitiful, and somewhat insensitive. No one laughed. "Eh?"

"James, I happen to have a certain respect for Narrow Gauge Engines!" Gordon replied, somewhat snootily, however in the right. "Why, the Mid-Sodor Railway was a grand and useful line before the war!"

"I've never met a Narrow Gauge engine." Thomas remarked. "Where's the Mid Sodor railway?"

"Why, Mid-Sodor, of course!" Edward laughed. "Where else would it be?"

"Wait, really!?" Thomas snarked.

"It ran up around Culdee Fells and terminates near Crovan's Gate." Henry said. "And parts of it still exist for that matter."

A series of whistles and cheers came from the four engines in the sheds. Edward pulled out of his shed a little further to greet the big engine, and Henry laughed and blew his whistle to quiet them. "It's great to see you all!" He laughed. "But what's with the two new engines?"

"The Marklin Engine came to take care of your jobs." James said. "Creepy little bugger, I don't like looking at him."

"The Tram is Toby." Thomas explained. "He came to help run part of my line, but he's been running the whole thing since I broke down."

"Broken down?" Henry exclaimed. "Then why don't you head to Crewe? Gosh, it's a lovely place, fixed me right up!"

Edward and Gordon, who'd been looking over Henry's new shape since he arrived, finally spoke up. "Henry…" Edward began cautiously. "You look…."

"You're an entirely new engine!" Gordon exclaimed. "What's wrong with my shape? Us Pacifics are in high demand you know!"

Henry looked at Gordon solemnly. Henry had never truly been a Pacific, and Gordon was only the prototype, but Henry had learned something recently that contradicted what Gordon had just boasted. He was about to say this when Edward spoke up again. "I wouldn't call him an _entirely_ new engine, but he has had quite the rebuild!"

"Black Five." James said. The other engines looked at him, confused, except Henry, who smiled proudly. "That's the class of engine Henry looks now, a Stanier Black Five."

"Who taught you so much about engine classes, James?" Came a booming and excited voice from beside the turntable. "I thought that was Henry's part-time job!"

"Sir Topham Hatt!" Henry exclaimed.

"I'm so glad to see you're back Henry!" Hatt laughed. "I've seen your test results from Crewe, you're a much stronger and faster engine now!"

"Surely he's not stronger than a Pacific like me…" Gordon growled from his berth.

"Thank you for reminding me Gordon!" Topham's whole demeanor suddenly changed. Like a Bipolar, he went from childish ecstasy at the sight of his missing engine, to the powerful and parent-like controller of the NWR. "I made a certain promise that's been waiting too long for fruition."

Thomas and Edward laughed, recalling Topham's order from Gordon's ridiculous move in the Christmas rush, where he'd run himself into a dirty ditch. "Gordon! What are you to pull now? Oil tankers?" Thomas mocked.

"Coal Cars?" Edward added. "Slate Trucks?"

"What are you two on about?" Henry asked.

"Henry!" Topham turned the attention back to himself. He was an attention hog that way. "You are now strong enough, fast enough, and responsible enough to take the express."

"Sir!"

"Gordon has lost this privilege recently." Hatt explained. "And I need you to be better than him, and take the Wild Nor' Wester for me?"

"Call Ol' Bailey and tell him i'm ready!" Henry excitedly shouted.

The other suddenly realized what Henry had said. Henry wasn't aware of the tragedy that had occured the day of his accident. Henry had been unconscious nearly the entire time before going to Crewe, pulled quickly away by some mainland engines. He hadn't been awake when they'd discovered his driver dead, and had been away for his funeral. How would he have known he driver was dead?

"Henry… You need to know something." Thomas slowly said.

"It's not good." James added, shockingly sympathetic, considering his personality.

Now all the engines looked to Edward. The kind and wise engine was the perfect character to tell Henry the sad news. Hatt nodded to his old engine and stepped away from the scene, yielding the responsibility to Edward.

The blue engine sighed and looked Henry in the eye, who was ready for the shock. "Owen can't drive you anymore Henry." He started.

[]

Later that day, Edward pulled into Crosby Station. He was picking up some delayed mail due for Brendam, and Edgar the bus suddenly pulled up beside him. "Hullo mate."

"Edgar." Edward nodded.

"So the big engine is back?" Edgar asked. "Funny story, the night before he crashed and went away, me 'n Bertie were joking about you engines crashing in the snow!"

"Excuse me!?" Edward was appalled!

"We didn't mean any harm in it." Edgar replied nonchalantly. "Jus' that it was a bad weather sort of night and we expected something bad, call it premonition!"

"Bad!?" Edward shouted. "Henry's driver DIED that night! And I just had to break that news to him, so if you could please keep your nasty comments to a minimum, that'd be great!"

Edgar looked at Edward with some sympathy, then sighed and nodded, driving away. Edward sighed and watched Edgar drive away. "It's ok Eddie." Sidney reassured him. "The bus isn't the most thoughtful of characters, is he?"

"That was uncalled for." Edward growled. "What, did he make a wish on Proteus' lamp? Is that why Henry crashed?"

"Calling out Fairytales in anger is no way to fix the situation." Sidney replied. "Henry crashed to the fault of snow, and Owen's death was an honest accident. Now relax about Edgar and move on, we've got work to do Buddy."

Edward sighed and pulled away as the conductor blew his whistle. Henry had reacted… neither poorly nor well to the news. It was more a state of shock for the engine than a real emotion. Everybody else had coped with it and moved on, but Henry hadn't had that luxury yet, instead coming home to a place that had changed much since his departure.

"He taking to Ted at all?" James asked, pulling up on the track beside Edward and slowing to his pace.

"I wouldn't know, I haven't seen him since I pulled out of Tidmouth." Edward replied. "It's probably going to be a mess for a while."

"Why a mess?" Sidney asked. "It'll take some getting used to, but-"

"I didn't tell Henry the whole story." Edward admitted. "I told him Owen can't drive him anymore… I didn't tell him why… I couldn't tell him why."

[]

"-and that's when I said, "I'd rather be a Brit than an American like you!" Ted's punchline was far more effective on Henry than James' to the other engines earlier, Henry genuinely laughed.

Edward had put Henry in a bit of shock that morning, but now, Ted was making him feel much better. Ted was a bit of a comedian, and a good driver. They were both learning today, Henry about the Express and Ted about how to drive a big engine like Henry.

"So what did you and Owen used to talk about?" Ted asked. "I'm just getting a feel for it. My old engine was a joker, so that's the kind of stuff we did."

"Well, Owen is an environmentalist." Henry started. "He'd talk about things like that, the pollution, the forestry, the railway's effect on the island."

"Oh? Like how the ships in the harbor are killing the Knapford Herrings?"

Henry was happy now. He thundered into Vicarstown station with the Express and stopped while he and Ted talked like he and Owen used to. James was at the station, unloading his slow passenger train and watching.

"Edward didn't tell him?" Geoffrey Black asked James.

"I don't understand why not." James replied. "Henry needs to know the truth! He can't go around expecting his driver to show up again when he clearly never can!"

James pulled out of the station as Henry situated himself in the sidings, sleeping like Gordon did when he took the express.

The bright red number 5 pulled along the line happily. These coaches never bothered him like the Wild Nor' Wester girls, and they tended to sing as they chuffed along. "Trickety Trock, Trickety Trock, we take passengers 'round the clock!" It was a childish and silly song, but James preferred it to the complaints of the trucks.

He came up under the Crovan's Gate bridge. Above were some boys, the same who'd teased Gordon when he'd run into the ditch. James whistled at them, only to suddenly feel a stinging pain in his face and cab. "AIEE!" He screamed and screeched to a halt just before the platform.

"OI!" Geoffrey shouted, and jumped from James cab. "Get back here you garbage!" He raised his fists as the boys sprinted away from the scene of their crime.

"They've broken our glass! They've broken our glass!" the coaches shouted. They tended to repeat things when they were excited.

"What was that!?" James demanded, trying to caress his hurt cheek buy moving his face strangely, but it wasn't very effective.

"Those-" Geoffrey swore, "-boys were throwing rocks from the bridge above! They hit you, broke a cab window and a few windows on these coaches!"

"Ruddy jerks!" James growled. "How dare they attack me? We have to get back at them!"

"But how?" Geoffrey asked.

[]

TO BE CONTINUED


	19. The 3 R's, Part 2: Revenge

_Heh, heh, this one escalates quickly. I'm proud of how it turned out, considering I wrote it in about 2 hours total. I'm churning out these two quicky but expect that finale to be a wait, but it's coming. Enjoy! -HC712_

Chapter 19:

Gordon, the big engine, was not in a good mood. Pulling a line of assorted trucks on the slow freight line, he was angrily waiting at Crosby when Thomas pulled up beside him. "Whew!" Thomas laughed. "What's that smell?"

"What smell?" Gordon replied, only replying to bide his time while waiting for the trucks to be ready. "I don't smell a smell!"

"It's a funny sort of smell." Thomas replied. "A musty, dirty sort of smell!"

Bob Hardy laughed, and Charlie Sand rolled his eyes, both aware of Thomas' joke. "No one smelled anything till you got here, it must be you!" Gordon retorted, attempting to keep his dignity.

"Bob, do you know what I smell?" Thomas asked. "Ditch water."

The trucks behind Gordon bust up laughing, and Charlie Sand chuckled as Gordon began pulling out of the station. Thomas laughed and pulled away too, but Bob Hardy watched as the big engine disappeared around a corner, the trucks behind him laughing and singing, "Silly old Gordon fell in a ditch- All on a thursday morning!"

"That was rude Thomas." Bob remarked as they puffed back into Knapford. "Gordon's paid well enough for that ridiculous mistake."

"But it was funny!" laughed Thomas. He backed toward the platform and waited on Percy, who was bringing him Annie and Clarabel. "Gordon should know better!"

A whistle sounded and Henry pulled into the station off the main line. He was clearly angry, and it appeared that his boiler had a small dent in it. He came in mumbling and cursing. Thomas only caught slivers of his words. "-those boys-", "-take those rocks and shove them up-", and "-bloody litterers."

"Hullo Henry?" Thomas said.

"Oh? Oh, hi Thomas." Henry barely noticed Thomas as he stopped at the platform. Thomas looked at the Wild Nor' Wester coaches and gasped. Several windows had been shattered, and the coaches were moaning dreadfully.

"Godred Crovan!" Thomas gasped. "Henry, what happened?"

"Found those-" James swore as he pulled into the station. "-boys for yourself Henry? Broke my windows just the other day too!"

"Where do they get such nerve?" Henry shouted. "I'm going to teach those boys a thing or two for throwing rocks at me!"

"Rock-throwing boys?" Thomas finally asked. "Little jerks, it'd serve them right if you can find a way back at them! ...now where is Percy?"

Henry and James were loading and unloading passengers, but Thomas was waiting on his coaches still. Henry and James bickered about the boys some more, and Sir Topham Hatt stepped out of his office and talked to some of Henry's passengers as they stumbled out of their coaches. "Sir?" Thomas called. "Sir? Where's Percy?"

"Ah! Thomas!" Hatt moved from the complaining crowd and approached the blue number 1. "Toby is taking your passengers again today, you're needed up in Anopha Quarry!"

"Anopha Quarry, that's not our line!" Thomas said, confused.

"Yes, but they need an engine for today as theirs has broken down." Hatt explained. "You're just to take some trucks down the line and to Elsbridge, am I clear?"

"But that's past Hackenbeck sir!" Thomas replied. "The bloody police will be after me if I go up that way!"

But Sir Topham Hatt had moved back to his passengers, trying to understand the situation with the boys at Crovan's Gate, so Thomas puffed away. He decided that, should the policeman stop him, he'd puff as fast as he could away from him.

[]

It was later that day that Gordon returned from his work. He'd at last been promised a nap, and was just dozing off when Henry came up from behind, blasting his whistle. Gordon groaned as Henry pulled up beside him. "Do you have to whistle like that Henry?"

"Why not?" asked Henry, "I feel amazing!"

"It isn't proper!" Gordon responded rudely. "An engine should only whistle when necessary, and you whistle far too much!"

"Don't listen to him Henry!" Percy peeped, pulling up on the next track over. "I'm glad you're back and I like your whistle!"

"Percy, no one asked you!" Gordon snapped.

"Well thank you Gordon!" Percy snipped back, "And by the way, Hatt wants you to take your next train early, so you'd best get to the platform!"

Gordon was about to respond, only to sneeze tremendously instead, soot and dirt blasting from his funnel and from his release valve around his chassis. Percy laughed and pulled away, and Henry suddenly lit up excitedly. "What's with you Henry?"

"You've just given me the way to get back at those boys!" Henry laughed, and then disappeared, heading toward Tidmouth.

Gordon sat a minute, then recalled Percy's information about his next train, so he pulled into the station. He sat at the platform and waited for the Caterpillar engine to bring him his trucks, when Sir Topham Hatt came out to greet him. "Hello Gordon, what are you doing here?"

"I'm waiting for my next train of course!" He responded. "You said I was to take it early!"

Hatt stared Gordon in the face with utter confusion. "When did I say that?"

[]

Meanwhile, Thomas was chuffing quickly down the line. A police siren wailed behind him, and Bertie the bus drove up beside him. "What's the rush mate?"

"I'm not supposed to be here!" Thomas shouted back. "That bloody insane policeman is after me!" He whistled and puffed harder, Bertie just keeping up with him.

"I've got you mate!" Bertie called back, and whirled around, back toward the police car. Thomas hoped Bertie wouldn't do anything irrational, and chuffed on to Anopha Quarry, past Ffarquhar station and into the mountains above Ffarquhar city.

Huffing and puffing, his boiler fit to burst, Thomas puffed into the quarry. While Thomas had made jokes about smell earlier that day, he could smell something now. "It smells terrible up here!" He remarked.

"I think that the engine that works here is a diesel." Bob replied. "That's an oily smell, like a diesel would cause."

"Whatever, let's get these trucks and get out of here." Thomas sighed. A lorry was tugging the trucks around, and Bob got out to speak with the manager of the Quarry. Thomas looked around, and saw, just ahead, a sign that read: 'DANGER, ENGINES MUST NOT PASS BOARD'. But past the board were the trucks, and tracks all around the quarry.

Thomas had a naughty idea. ...which sounds very dirty, doesn't it?

[]

"So he's a bit off his rocker, isn't he?" Toby asked.

"My brother, Bertie?" Edgar laughed. "Never! Charging down a policeman in defense of an engine who was breaking the law? That's perfectly normal!"

"He's not in much trouble, is he?" Henrietta asked.

"It looks like Hatt is suing the officer actually." Toby replied. "It's not like the rule makes much sense, but it did get me this job! But Bertie and Thomas should get off, scot-free."

[]

Elsewhere, at Kellsthorpe Road, Henry and Edward were talking. Edward was slowly trying to tell Henry the truth, egged on by Sidney, but he wasn't doing very well. Henry, meanwhile, was preparing to defeat the rock-throwing boys with one heck of a sneeze.

"See Henry, Owen didn't leave." Edward finally stated.

"Uh-huh…" Replied Henry.

"I mean, he's still on the island!" Edward continued.

"Uh-uh…?" Henry mumbled.

"...Henry, look, I-" Edward was so close to telling Henry what happened, but Ted suddenly jumped in Henry's cab.

"Looks good Henry!" He shouted, cutting off Edward entirely. "Let's go get those boys once and for all!"

"HOO-UH!" Henry shouted. Edward finally noticed that Henry had been building up a sneeze for quite some time now, while he'd rambled like an idiot. Henry puffed away quickly, his coaches full of passengers, ready to see the revenge take place.

"Good job." Sidney commented. "You got about 99% of the way there."

"Thanks… now where is James?" Edward changed the subject, feeling stupid over his failure, and waiting on the red engine for his passengers. "He should have been here ages ago!"

Right then, James' whistle was heard down the line. The red engine came storming into the station, his face as red as his paint. "Better move fast, Old Iron!" He snapped, screeching to a halt at the platform and letting his passengers off.

"Old Iron?" Edward gasped. "What's got you in such a mood!?"

"That stupid, green Caterpillar of an engine tricked me!" James growled. "He told me to stay in the shed and wait for Hatty, but he's away in Ulfstead dealing with a lawsuit!"

"Why on earth did you believe Percy?" Edward laughed, finally able to pull out of the station.

[]

Lady Jane Hatt was sitting in the controller's office, standing in for her husband as he dealt with several problems on the railway. Well, she wasn't sitting, she was standing both figuratively and literally as she vacuumed the office. But then the phone rang.

"Hello?" She asked. "Lady Hatt here!"

"Hello? Yes, we've got a mess here in the Quarry."

"What sort of mess?"

"This engine ran past a danger sign and fell into an old mine shaft. We can't pull him out with the lorries, and the tram isn't strong enough to pull him out either!"

"You need a strong engine?" Lady Hatt certainly wasn't the controller, but she knew enough about the engines to know both who'd fallen into a mine, and which engine was needed to pull him out. "Thank you, Gordon is on his way, it should all be better soon."

"Thank you ma'am!"

Lady Hatt hung up, only to get a second call.

"Ma'am we've got an engine who's run past some buffers!"

"Run past some buffers? What happened?"

"It's Percy Ma'am, and when he stopped at one of the new signals, he backed up rather than go forward! We don't understand why, but he keeps saying something about 'Backing signals' and can't move out!"

"Godred Crovan! Two downed Tank engines!" Lady Hatt sat down and looked at her timetable. "Alright, I'm sending James to pull him out, thank you." She hung up, only to receive a third call. She cursed quietly and picked up again. "Hello?" She groaned.

"Lady Hatt? It's me, Ted. So it turns out that using an engine sneezing to get boys away is a health hazard, and we've been grounded, so to speak. We need an engine to take the Passengers to Vicarstown."

"Edward's already on the way there, Love." She was doing her best to keep her temper, the stress was getting to her.

"Thanks and Sorry Ma'am."

Ted hung up, and Lady Hatt didn't dare set the phone down, expecting another ring the second she did. Carefully and cautiously she did, and no further rings came. She sighed and sat back against here husband's chair and looked at a map of Sodor hanging on the wall. How on earth had the island had three massive incidents in the same hour? There were only seven engines, with the Marklin Engine now gone!

She picked up the phone to call Topham, but set it back down, deciding it was best to let him fix the problems with the police. She then returned to her vacuuming, but couldn't help but notice the lack of engine noises down at the platforms of Knapford Station.

[]

Tidmouth Sheds was hell that night. Arguments sprang up left and right.

"-Percy causing confusion and Delay!"

"-psychotic kids go crying home-"

"-if I lose the branchline to a tram-"

"-bloody backing signal sent me straight off-"

"SI-LEN-CE!" Shouted the voice of the fat controller. The six bickering engines of Tidmouth fell silent. Toby resided in a shed on the Ffarquhar line, so he wasn't part of the argument. "NOW! LET ME BE VERY CLEAR! TODAY WAS THE WORST DAY THIS LINE HAS FACED SINCE 1943!"

"What happened '43?" Percy asked in a whisper.

"PERCY!" Topham snapped. If the engines hadn't acknowledged Topham's anger before, they certainly did now. "Now most of you engines have caused major confusion and delay today! Thomas: You evaded the police rather than explain, sent Bertie to stop the officers, and then sent yourself down a mine!"

"Fancy that!" Gordon laughed " 'Silly old Thomas fell in a-"

"YOU!" Topham whirled to face the big engine. "You've incited arguments and mischief all day, from Thomas to Percy to Henry, to the rock-throwing boys!"

"That was your idea!?" James shouted.

"YOU were rude to the passengers!" Topham shouted, pointing to each engine as he screamed. "And Henry… GAH! YOU KNOW PERFECTLY WELL WHAT YOU DID!"

"Yes sir." Henry whispered.

"Edward, thus far you've been one of the only two responsible engines on the railway!" Topham's tone became only slightly gentler as he turned to the oldest engine. "And I'm glad for it! You and Toby shall have a new coat of paint!"

"Oh ho ho!" James cut in. "Edward isn't off the hook either!"

"James?" Topham glared. "This had better be good, or you'll be in worse trouble than Gordon!"

"It is!" James snapped. "Edward is a bloody liar! Henry, what did he say happened to Owen!?"

"He left!" Henry replied. "He's gone and retire-" Henry stopped, realizing what James was leading into. "Edward? He retired, right?"

Topham swore. "Edward why?!" He shouted. "You didn't tell him!?"

"I-I…" Edward couldn't speak.

"He's dead." Gordon grumbled. "Owen died in your Flying Kipper crash."

A terrible silence came over the yard. Henry wasn't moving, wasn't breathing. "What?" He finally whispered after a terrible minute of silence.

Edward moved further back into his shed. He couldn't bear to look.

"He's not the only liar!" James growled, "Percy here and his dirty tricks-"

"I was just having a bit of fun!" Percy screeched. "You and your backing signals, you made me crash!"

"You naive little engine!" Thomas growled. "What kind of signal-"

"Naive?! Who ran past a danger sign to prove he was the best?!" Percy snapped back.

"SILENCE!" Boomed Sir Topham Hatt again. "I'VE HAD ENOUGH! ALL OF YOU GET TO WORK! You delayed so many freight trains today, you're to fix it all tonight before ANY of you get sleep!" And with that, and a dramatic and furious turn of his heel, Sir Topham Hatt, controller of the NWR, stormed back to his car and drove into Tidmouth, waking various workers and the drivers.

Tidmouth was silent. Edward was the first on the turntable, he was eager to get away from the harsh stares of the other engines. Then Gordon, the proud but indignant engine rolled out of the sheds, holding up every last bit of his dignity and arrogance as he flashed his tender past each of the remaining engines. Then Percy scooted off, ready to prove himself once more. James came next, muttering all the way about how he'd been unfairly called out compared to the other engines. Last out of the sheds was Thomas, who stopped on the turntable. His wheels and chassis was covered in dirt, dust and bits of stone, he turned fully around to look at Henry, who wouldn't leave the shed that night. His face was beyond sadness, and Thomas couldn't do anything but look.

The little number one rolled away finally, stopping in the yards to look at the trucks. SCRuffey was there, laughing madly and mocking Thomas. "Abi in malam rem!" he shouted at the rough truck, and puffed away to Knapford.

[]

Jane and Topham Hatt sat again in the controller's office, watching as the engines pushed away with their Night Trains.

"You did win the lawsuit today, right dear?" Jane asked kindly. "That's got to help."

"A minor boost in the long run." Topham sighed, taking off his hat and throwing it to the ground. "How did all this happen?"

Jane sighed and sat beside Topham, they both looked out the window. "To think that only a year ago, we only had Edward, Henry and Gordon."

"To think that only a year ago, we didn't have all these problems either." He grumbled. "Godred Crovan's grace, how did all this happen?"

[]

TO BE CONCLUDED


	20. The Feud

_So this interrupts the three-part story, which will be completed in the next chapter, but it's kind of important to the story. This will set up who engines talk to or not for the rest of the story, and I couldn't fit it in with the rest of the three-part. So here you have just a taste of how life was on the Island for two weeks, building up for a resolution in the last of the three-parter._

**Chapter 20:**

Knapford Tavern, the off and on gathering place of the NWR drivers. Some nights they'd just go home, sleep rather than talk. But many a night some or all of them would gather around a table in the southeast corner of the building, drinking and eating as friends. On this night, they were all gathered for 'Glen Nodd'. Glen Nodd is Sudric (the ancient language of Sodor) for 'Blue Night'. A traditional celebration of the original drivers, they would gather yearly on February 1st and talk about the past year on the line.

On the Glen Nodd of 1962, there had only been three drivers, Charlie Sand, Sidney Heaver, and the late Owen Bailey. They'd talked for hours about their engines and their experiences before heading home late or into the morning.

On the Glen Nodd of 1963, there was much to talk about. The past year had been the biggest year of growth and change the NWR had seen since… 1943. Now, there were seven drivers, two of the original six who'd started Glen Nodd, and they were leading the storytelling.

"D'ya know how long it took Topham to paint Henry green again?" Charlie Sand, driver of Gordon, father and one of the originals asked Ted Brigham, the young and strong new driver of Henry.

"It was about a year, wasn't it?" Sidney Heaver, driver of Edward, the other original and shortest of the group cut in.

"Ridiculous engine, I hope James never tries that!" Said Geoffrey Black, Londoner and driver of James.

"Thomas said the other engines tried to tell James the story, but he may have fallen asleep before they finished." Bob Hardy, driver of Thomas who can't hold his drink, replied.

"Ah sleep… how long are we staying up for lads?" Crovan Aldrich, Driver of Toby, of Royal Sudric descent, and the eldest and most exhausted of the crew, asked.

"Who needs sleep when you have Beer?!" Shouted Neil O'Heart, Percy's driver of African origin, who'd clearly had too much to drink.

"Careful, tipsy!" Ted reached out to steady Neil as he leaned his chair a little too far.

"So how is it on the main line anyway?" Crovan asked. "Me and Toby don't see much of the action, running the branch line and all.

[]

Crovan had been referring to the seemingly unending feud between the other six engines. Almost exactly two weeks had passed since the night it began, when tension had boiled higher than their boilers and the majority of them had stopped speaking to each other. While Toby tried to stay friends or at least neutral to the opposing engines, the fight couldn't ignore him. He and James had had a fierce argument following Toby's repaintment and numbering (7) and did their best to avoid each other. Meanwhile Edward had been ostracized by most of the engines because of his lies, and Thomas had lost his branch line and coaches to Toby and had to work on the SSR branchlines instead now.

But there were plus sides. While most engines were didn't speak to one another, alliances had popped up, and some engines were sticking fiercely together. Thomas and Gordon had come to an agreement, they'd both lost the jobs most important to them due to their own silliness, and found support in each other thus. Toby and Percy were the only engines who'd speak to Edward, and all three of them had a grudge on Gordon and James, making for a nice trio. Then there was James and Henry. James was on hard ground with nearly every engine, but Henry he couldn't hate. James was rough and red on the outside, but a good soul on the inside. Most engines either ignored Henry, or Henry ignored them, but James had stuck by him since he'd discovered his Driver died, and James wouldn't, possibly couldn't, leave Henry to the pack of fighting engines.

Needless to say, the railway had become hellish. So on Glen Nodd, while their drivers laughed and talked and toasted another year in Knapford, Tidmouth was cold and dark- both figuratively and literally. Snow fell against the sheds and the lights were out, so the engines couldn't see each other's glares. But there were glares, there were mumbles and curses upon each other, and there was the occasional snore or sleep-whistle.

Till finally, some idiot had to speak their mind, loud and clear, like a starting gun for the fight. Technically, however, James didn't speak a word, merely hummed. But it was a cursed tune, the tune of 'Here we go 'round the Mulberry bush."

"Did you really just start that?" Thomas snapped, recognizing quickly the song.

"Hm?" James asked.

"I swear to Lady herself James, if you start a fight tonight-" Percy couldn't finish his sentence.

"Oh who's starting fights?" James retorted. "The engine who's merely humming a song? Or the engine who runs about spreading LIES?!"

"Is that calling me out?" Edward groaned, having been asleep when it began. "Because I'm really not in the mood-"

"Actually I believe it was directed at Percy, but you'd deserve it too Eddie." Henry cut in.

"Edward doesn't deserve that load of bull!" Percy snipped.

"Don't defend me Percy." Edward sighed. "If Henry's mad, he has every right to be."

"Which is why you don't tell lies!" Gordon boomed.

"Or run into ditches…" James whispered.

Gordon screamed and shook, slamming into the shed door and shouting "LET ME AT HIM!", Only to spit and roll back to his proper position.

The sheds went silent again, save James humming a certain tune one verse more before finally allowing the night to settle.

This is how every single night of the past two weeks had been.

[]

The following morning, Saturday, February 2nd of 1963, things were different. The night had been spent arguing, yet the morning was calm. The snow had slowed and now floated down peacefully rather than pounding as it had last night, and the sun peeked over the horizon. Ivo Hugh was quite satisfied as he lit the fires of the engines, not having to listen the bickering and anger.

Jobs started slowly for the day, with absolutely no arguments nor much talking. Henry went off with the first express run of the day, Edward took a passenger train down to Brendam, and James set off for Ballahoo for some freight cars.

Gordon was waiting at the station while Thomas assembled his train. Though Percy was the assigned shunter, he wouldn't be seen helping Gordon, and so Thomas was left with a quick bit of yard work, before he and Percy double-headed a train to Vicarstown.

"You noisy engines kept me up all night!" Growled the brakevan as Thomas pushed him into place on Gordon's train. "You and your bloody arguments!"

"We hardly spoke last night, all things considered." Thomas responded annoyedly. This brakevan was the one brought by Oliver, the one Toad had traded places with. Thomas was not a fan of the tradeoff, but there was nothing to be done about it now.

Gordon blew his whistle and set off down the line, and Thomas scooted back around into Knapford Station, where Percy was waiting with their train. He buffered up in front of Percy waited for the conductor to send them off.

"Thomas?" Percy suddenly and quietly peeped. "We aren't mad at each other, are we?"

Thomas didn't respond quickly. He wasn't sure what to say, till he thought about it. No, he wasn't mad at Percy. Edward he was annoyed with for his lies, James he was mad at for being an all-around jerk, and he was severely annoyed at Toby for stealing his line. But… "No Perce, we're still friends." He finally stated.

The conductor's whistle sounded and the two friends started off. Not much was said on the way, but they both knew that silence was far better than argument. Bob Hardy and Neil O'Heart silently celebrated, knowing that, at least for now, there was no fights to be heard.

[]

Knapford Harbor isn't large, but it's the only port between the NWR and the oceans. Topham had been planning another harbor, perhaps a whole dockyard, down by Brendam, but for now, Knapford remained the only Sudrian town with a port. The other thing of note about this harbor is the fact that, while technically part of the main line, the only railway line to it went through a short section of the Ffarquhar branch line, currently run by Toby.

So when James discovered is trucks were to be filled with fish from the harbor, he prayed and hoped that the old tram would be on the opposite side of the line when he arrived. He had no such luck.

"Did I hear a bell ringing?" Geoffrey muttered, hoping otherwise while he and his engine sat patiently, waiting on the trucks to be filled by a crane known as Big Mickey.

"Hullo Geoffrey!" Called the voice of Toby's driver. Crovan hung out of Toby's cab as they pulled into the Harbor on the other track. "How's it going on your end of the island?"

"Oh fine!" He replied, looking carefully at the engines faces. Toby was simply looking as far away from James as he could while passengers disembarked from his coaches. Meanwhile, James' boiler was fit to burst in his anger. Crovan nodded, acknowledging that there would be a fight if they didn't get their trains moving soon.

"Hello James, glad to see your paint is bright and clean." Toby called, "At least, that's what Henrietta said!"

"And what do you say, Toby?" James demanded. Geoffrey moved lower into the cabin, prepared for James' boiler to literally burst.

"I'd say your face matches it!" Toby retorted.

While James proceeded to scream and curse the tram, and Toby sat there and took it, Terrence the tractor rolled up after clearing some snow on the Harbor. "Psst!" Came a voice. Terrence looked around to see Clarabel desperately trying to get his attention.

"Clarabel?" He asked, slowly approaching the back coach. "What's happening this time?"

"The usual comment about paint jobs." She replied, highly annoyed. "Terrence, you go all about the island, right?"

"Yes ma'am!" He replied proudly. "I've been clearing roads and stations all along the main line."

"Good, so will you be able to tell Thomas something? For Annie and I?" She asked. "Because as kind and good as Toby and Henrietta are, we're very tired of them pulling us. Tell Thomas to get back on Hatt's good side, so that he can have the branch line back!"

[]

At Vicarstown, the feud was calmer. At this point, there were only two engines at the station. These two engines were neither allies nor really enemies, but they were certainly not on speaking terms. Sidney Heaver and Ted Brigham were standing on the platform between the two engines, looking at the situation.

"It's funny." Ted sighed. "Henry acts normal and happy when we're alone and on the lines, but when we meet an engine, he's suddenly depressed and silent."

"Doesn't really surprise me." Sidney sighed. "I just wish Edward would come about and apologize.

Right then, a double-headed train pulled in on the other platform. Percy and Thomas were far from angy, but were instead talking happily as they pulled into the station. They both tooted their whistles and separated from their train; Percy beside Edward and Thomas up to Henry.

"Hey Edward." Percy peeped. "How's it here?"

Edward looked over at Henry, then sighed. "What am I supposed to do?" He whispered. "I can't exactly talk to Henry, can I?"

"Why not?" Percy replied.

*Back on the other side of the platform*

"How are you Henry?" Thomas quietly asked, pulling up beside the green engine.

"...you're talking to me?" Henry asked, surprised, "I wasn't sure if anyone would."

"That's mostly James' fault., as he seems to be acting as your bodyguard." Thomas replied. "But really, no one has any idea what to say."

Henry was quiet. Edward was quiet. Thomas and Percy didn't like it, so they pulled back out of the station and onto a siding.

"This is going to take some time to fix, isn't it?" Percy sighed.

"I'm going to talk to Gordon, we're going to figure this out, sometime soon I hope." Thomas finished.


	21. The 3 R's, Part 3: Reconcile

**Chapter 21:**

Sir Topham Hatt drove recklessly through the quiet, dark and snow-filled streets of Knapford. He'd just rushed out of his office, the postman having brought him an urgent letter. He now drove madly to the tavern, praying he'd find even just one engine driver to pass the word to. Clutching the letter tightly, he leapt from his car and splashed through the slushy parking lot into the tavern.

It had been three years since Topham's presence had graced this particular pub. He looked around, somewhat disgusted. He saw a handful of his workers lying against the bar or on tables, depressed, some more inappropriately flirting with some unfavorable waitresses, and then, his target, the southeast table of three drivers. Scooting past a drunken signalman, Topham approached the trio and slammed the letter on the table. "Boys, we have a problem." He stated.

"Good to see you too Sir!" Neil O'Heart laughed, patting Hatt's back as Sidney Heaver and Geoffrey Black looked down at the letter.

"What?!" Geoffrey gasped, picking up the letter and re-reading it.

"The queen?" Sidney asked. "Coming here?! When did you get this letter, Topham? We'll need to prepare! We need-"

"Exactly, Sidney." Hatt replied. "We need to prepare the island. If the Queen herself is coming to Sodor, we want it to look good!"

"How many Potemkin Villages are we building tonight, sir?" Neil joked, and went for another large drink, only for Geoffrey to knock it from his hand and spill it Neil's pants. "OI!"

"Enough of that Neil." Hatt ordered. "I'm hiring as many painters, builders, and inspectors as I can so the railway is as clean as possible, but there's a different aspect I'm concerned about."

"The engine's feud." Sidney sighed. "An outburst in front of the Queen wouldn't do, now would it."

"Aye." Geoffrey sighed. "James has a freak out any time he sees Henry talking to another engine. I respect his concern for Henry but we can't be side-tracked…" Geoffrey groaned and Neil snickered. "-sidetracked, pun NOT intended, everytime Henry is just being normal."

"Edward's not too happy to talk to any of the big engines nowadays." Sidney added. "But he's not who I'm worried about. He's been taking the hits calmly."

"Where's the biggest feud?" Topham asked. "Which engines need the least of time together?"

"Percy can't be near Gordon or James without getting bullied." Neil replied.

"James should be nowhere near Toby." Geoffrey added. "Don't ask me what they're on about, but it's not a good deal."

"Henry and Edward don't talk." Sidney finished. "Whether they'd fight or make up if given the chance to talk, Ted nor I could tell you."

Topham sat down and looked over the letter again. "Then I'll give them that chance. If Edward and Henry can settle, maybe the feud will cool. I don't expect everybody to make up, but there are alliances and friendship still among this fight. We need those to flourish and the fight to end."

"Well said!" Neil commented. "Tomorrow ought to be hell!" Sidney took Neil's drink and dumped it on his head.

"...An extra worker might be nice, right sir?" Geoffrey thought aloud.

"What do you mean, Geoffrey?" Hatt replied

[]

Tidmouth was more liveable now. Fights were far fewer in the new week, and mostly the engines kept to their alliances, not reaching out to start an argument.

"I just wish they'd let mistakes go." Thomas commented to Gordon one morning, referring to their accidents in pitfalls.

"I think the reason we haven't been granted our jobs back is because this lot keeps reminding Hatt of those silly accidents." Gordon agreed.

A bell rang in the yard, and all the engines looked up. Toby trundled into the yard, smiling in the sunrise. "Hello friends…" he began, "...and James." Toby added just for spite.

"I feel called out." James announced.

"Good, now you know how we all feel." Percy and Edward remarked simultaneously.

"What are you doing here, Toby?" Thomas asked.

"Hatt had Ivo wake me early and come over." Toby replied. "Crovan said he has an announcement!"

"What sort of announcement?" Henry asked aloud.

"A big one!" Came a booming voice from behind the sheds. "One of royal proportions!" A familiar and unwelcome whistle blew, and a dark and steaming figure came around the left side track.

"AHHH!" James screamed.

"It's back!?" Edward gasped.

"ITS GONNA EAT HATTY!" Percy shrieked.

Puffing along the line came the infamous Marklin engine, with Sir Topham Hatt sitting dramatically atop it's boiler, clutching a letter in one hand and holding onto his top hat with the other. "...What did you say Percy?" He sternly demanded.

"He meant nothing by it Sir." Edward cut in. "But, why is that back on our island? And what announcement have you got for us?"

"I suggest you adjust to having the Marklin on the line again." Topham began. "As for the announcement: I'll keep it short, there's a lot to do." He cleared his throat and dramatically flourished the letter, and read it aloud. "_From the house of her Royal Highness, Queen Elizabeth II would like to announce her coming on the date of February 15th, 1963._

A chorus of whistles and shouts came from the seven sentient engines of the NWR, the Marklin engine silent as ever, at the revelation, and Hatt raised his hands for silence, waiting till they quieted.

"That's only five days from now!" Henry shouted.

"Now you understand why I brought this fellow along?" Topham patted the Marklin engines dome. "But there's more, the queen will not be arriving via the royal train!" A gasp rippled through the engines. "So one of you shall bring the queen to Knapford!"

Hatt slid off the Marklin engine and moved to it's cab to talk to the driver and fireman, and his engines looked around, realizing the gravity of the situation. "I suppose it won't be me pulling the queen." Edward stated, breaking the ice. "I'm old and not as strong as Gordon or Henry."

"Well it won't be me either!" Gordon exclaimed. "I'm in disgrace…"

"It'll be me of course!" James declared snootily. "I'm a splendid red engine, worthy of bringing her majesty across this island!"

"Actually it should be Henry." Percy snipped.

"Indeed!" Toby agreed. "A big, honest and still honorable engine like him should be the bearer of the royal train!"

"Don't forget he also pulls the express!" Edward added. "The perfect engine to take the queen!"

The engines all agreed, save some slight grumble from James before yielding it to Henry, and then they all set out to do their jobs.

[]

Later that day, it began to rain. It wasn't quite pouring, but it was certainly a heavy rain, and the likes of Ted and Geoffrey had to put up a tarp between their engines cab and tender to keep dry. All around the island, and especially in Knapford, workers were busy cleaning and re-cleaning every station and preparing for the Queen's visit, but the rain slowed the work dreadfully.

"It's hard to paint if the rain washes the color away!" Alfred the worker grumbled to Edward at Crovans Gate.

"Best to work on the roof instead then?" Edward suggested.

The Marklin Engine puffed by, taking a load of building materials to Gardensville. Never heard of it? No one had. It was a Potemkin Village Lady Hatt had ordered be built.

"Ooh!" Edward groaned. "These sudden weather changes are muddling my gears and making my axles ache!"

[]

The week passed swiftly and, shockingly, without incident or argument. The engines moved quickly, calmly, and almost silently. There was much excitement in the towns, but the rail was just work.

"I'm absolutely shocked dear." Topham announced to his wife on the 14th, the day prior to her majestys coming. "If I'd known all it took to shut up these engines was the Queen coming, I'd have invited her!"

"I just spoke to Sidney, he and Edward are keeping those new Brendam Bay engines out of the way." Jane stated. "I dare say we could expect some new business down there if the queen says anything good about the NWR."

"Thank you, but I'm afraid my mind's still reeling." Topham replied. "Not a fight all week! And after nearly a month of anger before this, I'm shocked!"

"So you've mentioned, but I need you to get over that for now." Jane approached Topham and kissed his shiny head. "Henry's due for the practice run from London and back, and Ted did request you ride with them."

"Right… right, I should be off then!"

[]

But down at the station, there was finally some action. The rain had stayed the week long, and painters were still scrambling to complete their jobs before the day was through. At Knapford, a painter was finishing the white trim as Henry was pulling into the station, the royal train ready for the run. He stopped below the painter and let off steam… which was a mistake.

The painter, blinded by the steam, tripped on his ladder and tumbled, head over heels onto the tarp over Henry's cab. He wasn't hurt, but as the ladder swayed, his paint bucket tumbled, landing smack on Henry's dome. Reports vary on the amount of spilled paint, ranging from an icing of white on the big engine's dome and boiler, to a wave of white splashing from his cab to his face; either way he was a sight unfit for the royal train.

"Mercy me!" Cried Ted. "Quick! Can we clean it off?"

Despite the best efforts of several workers, the paint smeared and dripped, and there was nothing to be done about it by the time the Fat Controller arrived.

"Henry I'm afraid this won't so!" He sadly stated. "You'll be repainted tonight, but it won't be dry in time to fetch the queen!"

Henry groaned in defeat, and he and Ted chuffed sadly back to Tidmouth. Topham looked around the platform, thinking hard. He now had to find a different engine to bring the royal train, but who…?

[]

"Git ou' o our yards ye' bloody insect!" SCRuffey screamed. "Ye' think yer fit fer the rails?"

Percy was speechless and exhausted. He'd been beyond overworked in the week, and the angry and wet trucks were taking out the long week on him. He was on the verge of tears as he passed by the worst of the trucks.

"Your nothing but a caterpillar!" Fred Pelhay screeched in agreement.

"Nay, you're below that of a caterpillar," added the spiteful GWR brake van "-you're a great abomination from the depths of-"

"SHUT IT!" roared a great voice from behind. Percy looked up, eyes wet from the rain and tears, to see an angry and powerful Gordon, buffer to buffer with a salt van. "YOU MAKE ONE MORE DEGRADING COMMENT AND YOU WILL FEEL THE WRATH OF A PACIFIC!"

The trucks shook and fell silent, and Gordon backed out of the yard, indicating for Percy to follow.

Blinking away his wet eyes, Percy looked up to the big engine. "Why did you do that?" He asked quietly. "I'm grateful, but it's not the first time the trucks have acted that way."

"Little Percy," Gordon began, using the word little like speaking to a scared child, rather than degradingly, "we engines may have our differences, but trucks are an altogether different fight. To work with the trucks, or to allow them to bully would be… dis- dis-" Gordon couldn't grasp a word, "... It wouldn't be right."

Percy looked at Gordon and realized, despite the past month of anger, there was no reason to hate the great engine.

The two puffed into Tidmouth where, of all engines, sat a broken-down Edward and a mis-painted Henry, talking calmly and happily, with Topham standing between them, watching with approval beneath an umbrella.

Percy puffed away on the side track, and Thomas pulled up from Tidmouth Station. "Have you spoken to him yet?" He asked Gordon.

"I had to save Percy first." Gordon replied. "Trouble with the trucks- couldn't ignore the situation."

"Looks like you aren't the only engines making up." Thomas said, nodding toward Edward and Henry.

Henry laughed at something and Hatt turned around. Seeing the two engines he pointed the blue engines to the side track and moved away from Edward and Henry. Gordon and Thomas rolled back to the junction and moved to the side of the shed on the loop line.

"Yes boys?" Hatt finally asked as both engines stopped in front of him.

"Please sir." Thomas and Gordon started simultaneously, then Thomas nodded to Gordon to let him continue. "May Thomas and I have our jobs back?"

"Gordon takes the express back and I gat my Branchline?" Thomas explained.

Topham looked both engines on their large, round, grey faces and thought carefully over the past months events. Then, he sighed and chuckled slightly as the rain began to let up. "Thomas, Gordon, I feel you've been punished long enough. This feud you engines have, I want to see it end, and I want things to go back to how it was before all these arguments." He looked up, and both engines were beaming proudly. "Thomas, you will have your Branchline, and Gordon will not only take back the Wild Nor' Wester, but you will also pull the royal train tomorrow!"

Gordon gasped and Thomas whistled and cheered, and Topham smiled proudly.

[]

Gordon was patiently waiting at the station. 8:30AM on June 15th, all decorated in Union Jack and royal decor, he sat, ready and strong, to take the Queen to Sodor.

A familiar whistle blew, the whistle of a famous Pacific, a brother of his pulled into the station beside him. "You look overdressed for a Sudrian." The Flying Scotsman declared, stopping beside his brother.

"Hello Scotsman." Gordon grumbled, moving upward in the engine equivalent of puffing out his chest.

"And what is my big brother doing here, in the heart of London?"

"Any second now you'll see." Gordon replied, looking away. There were cheers outside of the station and a crowd on the platform, so Gordon knew his special passenger was near.

A minute of silence followed, till Scotsman leaned over. "You aren't still mad by chance?" He asked quickly.

Gordon sighed, hoping the queen would move faster. "Look Scot, I've done quite a bit of making up recently, and I'm happy to fix another broken relationship-" Gordon paused as the crowd got louder and the queen approached. "-with any other engine in the world, except you or your friends from that day."

"Gordon please, I-" Scotsman started, but the crowd roared, and the rest of his statement was drowned by the cheers of Londoners, and her majesty boarded the coach of the royal train.

"EXPRESS COMING THROUGH!" Gordon shouted. And with one last look back at his brother, he puffed out of the station, bound for Knapford, Sodor.

[]

At Knapford Station, four of the other engines, the Marklin Engine, and several other sentient vehicles were gathered, along with their drivers and other human friends, all waiting excitedly.

"Her Majesty herself! The day has arrived!" Annie and Clarabel chanted excitedly.

"I've been trying to learn how to whistle: _'God Save the King',_ but it's not working out." Percy peeped. The Marklin Engine didn't care.

"Where is Edward?" Terrence asked, looking around the station.

"He's still in the shed, with Toby." Henry replied. "The weather changes too fast, his axles ache when that happens."

It was true though. The rain, like the feud, had disappeared overnight, and the island looked wonderful. Lady Hatt's Potemkin Village had fallen in all the rain, so it was all genuine beauty all around the island.

"It's nearly noon! Where is Gordon!?" Thomas shouted.

"Just because he's big and fast doesn't mean he'll be here right on time." James replied. Gordon's whistle blew faintly on the distance. "Or maybe he will be."

A bell rang, Toby's bell, as he and Edward quickly moved into the station. "Sorry we're late gents." Toby huffed.

"Ooh-err." Edward groaned. "I'd rather not move for the next hour if that's alright with everyone?"

Sidney Heaver and Crovan Aldrich jumped out of their engines and joined the other drivers, who were in line and looking Sharp for the Queen's visit.

Gordon's whistle blew again, much closer and louder now. "Are we ready Sodor?!" James called out like a game show host.

Platform 2 was cleared for Gordon, who carefully and gracefully stopped. There was a fanfare and respectful silence as Queen Elizabeth stepped out of her coach. She was greeted first by Sir Topham Hatt and Lady Hatt, the Wellsworth Vicar, head inspector Jeremiah Jobling, and the Scottish landowner Lord Callan.

"She's beautiful!" Percy whispered to Henrietta.

"Shh!" Thomas wheeshed. "I think she's going to speak!"

Now, the queen did speak. She spoke long enough that I can't fit it in our story, but I can tell you that the Queen was proud of the island and it's railway. She told the engines that they were the gold standard of the British Railways, and that each engine, coach and tractor was really useful in their own way. And when she was done there was a rousing response of cheers, whistles, and a chorus of _'Auld Lang Syne'_ led by Lord Callan for unexplained reasons.

And so on February 15th, all the sentient creatures (and even the Marklin Engine) of Sodor were honored by the presence of the queen.

And on February 16th no one cared and things and went back to normal.

[]

_So! Season 1 of Thomas and Friends an a large chunk of the Reverend Awdry books are now out of the way, and the stage is set for greater stories. I'd like to make a couple note here._

_-I am American. I have no idea how the queen would have acted and been treated upon reaching Sodor, so I did my best based on what happens in the story and how I other shows and stories portray royalty being greeted. Hope I did it justice._

_-So far in the story, it's been pretty straightforward and not far from how it was written in both the books and Tv Show, but things are going to get different now. I'm planning on rearranging a ton of the story from this point forward. There will still be the obvious direction, episodes from Season 2 and 3 will come next, and will stay relatively in order, but I'll be bringing in characters sooner and later than their canon appearances, and since I'm combining the Railway Series and TTTE Canons, there's going to be a lot of changes. Just thought I'd let everybody know._

_-And finally before I move on, you readers are welcome to review the story. Any comments or complaints or questions- i'm happy to listen to you, I love feedback. I'm not fishing for reviews, just wanting an idea of how people like the way i've written this._

_One last thing of note- Nearly every interaction, argument and new detail I've put in this chapter will be important as I go along. The Scotsman-Gordon interaction is the base for a long story arc, all the way to the Great Race. The Feud alliances and separations will have repercussions for the rest of the story, and there are a lot more human characters that will have important roles coming up, some now introduced and some only mentioned._

_Hoo-ee, this had been a long one, hasn't it?_


	22. Useful Engines

**Chapter 22:**

May of 1963 was a wild month. It began when the ever-ambitious and government- approved Sir Topham Hatt began building a new and large dockyard at Brendam Bay. Schedules were shifted much as the Wellsworth branch line began having more and more trains running up and down it, to the point that Sir Topham Hatt set Edward as a permanent resident of the line, from Wellsworth to Brendam.

But the line wasn't the only thing running wild. The weather had become erratic again, from rainy one day to sunny the next. This was not good for Edward, who suffered from the engine equivalent of Raynaud's syndrome, meaning it was hard for him to function in erratic weather- like they'd been having.

So on the 10th, when he came late into Wellsworth Station, much to James' annoyance, it was really the fault of the weather on his old body. He stopped at the platform, somewhat out of breath, and let his passengers out.

"Late again!" James shouted angrily. Edward laughed a little. "You silly old engine!"

"When you get to be my age James," Edward replied, "You'll understand taking a little extra time."

James pulled out in a huffy hurry, but Edward just smiled and went back down his line.

[]

James was still cross when he pulled into Tidmouth, having ended up late to both Vicarstown and Knapford. Thomas and Percy were there, having just a second off for themselves, and they were bickering about whose paint was better when James stopped on the turntable angrily muttering to himself. "What's that James?" Thomas jeered. "If you can't say it to me, perhaps you shouldn't say it at all!"

"Edward is old!" James shouted in reply, shocking both tank engines. "He clanks about like a lot of old iron! He lies to his friends! And he's so slow that he makes us late!"

"Old Iron?!" Thomas gasped.

"Slow?" Percy yelled. "Why, he could beat you in a race any day!" Thomas wasn't sure of that, but he agreed anyway to put spite to James.

"And besides, we've all forgiven him for lying about Owen!" Thomas added. "I don't see what you're on about, it's all the fault of the weather really!"

"Beat me in a race you say?" James replied. "HA! I should like to see him try it the old fool."

Thomas and Percy were stunned, and they both left the sheds, unable to listen to James' rant, nor wanting his annoying opinion on paint colors either.

[]

Meanwhile, Edward was stopped on a siding in Wellsworth. The siding was the track for scrap trucks from Crock's Scrap Yard, and Edward was collecting a couple trucks to take to the dock building site. As he was waiting, he looked up and discovered another sentient vehicle sitting nearby him. It was a little green traction engine, with big back wheels and a kind but old face, but he was splotched with rust across his whole figure. He seemed to be asleep, possibly already drugged for scrap, but Edward felt to say something. "Who's that?" He asked when Mr. Crock came by in his lorry to dump scrap in Edward's trucks.

"Oh tha's uh…" Mr. Crock stopped, looking at the old machine too. "I dunno. Some farmer dropped 'im off n' se'd he didn' need 'im ana'more." Mr. Crock dumped the scrap in the trucks and looked back. "I think 'e isn' drugged yet, want me to wake 'im?"

"Sure!" Edward replied

"Wait, what?" Sidney exclaimed.

But Crock moved over to it and knocked on its side, waking it up. "Oh! H-Hello?" It stuttered.

"Hello, who are you?" Edward called out to it, Crock driving away now.

"I-I'm Trevor." He responded. "Who are y-you?"

"I'm Edward. What are you doing here Trevor?"

"Oh, my driver says I'm no longer useful. He sent me here and I'll be scrapped next week."

"What a shame!" Edward replied, upset somewhat after hearing this. "You look very useful, just old!"

"I know!" Trevor sighed. "A nice worker told me that if I had a job, he could fix me up with a little paint, Brasso and oil!" Trevor sighed, and Mr. Crock let Sidney know that he was ready for Edward to leave. "I suppose I'm just old-fashioned, and no-one wants that these days."

Edward felt sorry for Trevor and whistled as he puffed away. He found himself wondering, as he puffed along the line, wondering what jobs there might be for an old traction engine on the Island.

[]

Back at Knapford, James and Gordon were talking about Edward. "He made me late for every station!" James shouted angrily.

"Poor old Edward, trying so hard to be useful when we all know he just needs preserved." Gordon sighed. "Perhaps we should tell Sir Topham Hatt he's too old for the railway."

Just then, Bertie the Bus pulled up. "G'day gents, couldn't help but overhear you." He said, rolling his eyes considering it was impossible to not hear them- they were shouting. "I'm afraid you're very wrong! Edward is running slow due to the weather, and you know that perfectly well Gordon."

"What's this? A bus standing up for Edward?" Gordon laughed. "I'm afraid I can't hear you, you're too far down, little bus!" Gordon laughed rudely, and Bertie smiled.

"I said that the Wild Nor' Wester is the disgrace of the line! Buses are much faster than you!" Bertie didn't mean this, and had some respect for Gordon, but the big engine was going too far.

"EXCUSE ME?!" Gordon screamed, but Bertie quickly spun away, blasting exhaust in Gordon's face and laughing as Gordon spluttered and coughed.

"Ignore him Gordon." James laughed. "He's only trying to get on your nerves."

"Well he's done it!" Gordon snapped. "That's the second bus to mock this engine, and this engine won't take it ANYMORE!" And with that dramatic promise, Gordon thundered out of the station in record time.

Bertie, meanwhile, had scooted over into the yards where Percy was shunting some coaches onto a siding. "Percy!" He called for the little green engine.

"Bertie? What are you doing in the shunting yard?" Percy asked. "You haven't gotten in trouble with the police again, have you?"

Bertie laughed. "No, but I need help. I want to get back at James and Gordon, they're going off about how they think Edward is too old."

"Yes I've heard James talk like that." Percy replied. "What's your plan? I'm on good terms with Gordon and I'd rather not muck that up, but James could do with a bit of humbling."

"I haven't one, that's why I came to you!" Bertie looked at Percy, who thought for a minute. Then, his face lit up with a mischievous smirk.

"Do you remember those stone-throwing boys?" Percy asked. "The ones who broke Henry and James' windows?"

"Yes, what about them?"

"Oh boy…" Neil O'Heart groaned from inside Percy's cab. He then covered his ears and walked away, deciding it was best if he didn't know and therefore couldn't be held responsible.

[]

That night at Tidmouth, the sheds were different. Edward, because he was working so hard, had opted to stay in the small sheds at Surrey along his line rather than travel all the way to Tidmouth. So there was an empty shed that night, even after Percy returned mysteriously late, and it was what separated the two tank engines from the bigger engines- Gordon, Henry and James. While Percy and Thomas were still off about blue paint vs green paint, the big engines were gossiping. Gossiping about Edward.

"Late to every station?" Henry asked as James repeated his rant of the day.

"All because the slow lump of steaming iron couldn't get up my old line fast enough!" James angrily replied.

"It is my belief that Edward should be retired!" Gordon added.

"For goodness sake!" Screeched Percy, finally picking up on their conversation. "Edward is a very useful engine! And besides, he doesn't have tires, he has wheels like any other engine!"

"Well that flew over his funnel…" Henry remarked.

"What did?" Percy cried, looking up at whatever had flow into his shed over his funnel.

"He means he wants Edward off our line. Thomas finally explained, exasperated at his ridiculous friend. "That's what Retired means- and I agree with Percy, Edward may be old, but he's still really useful!"

"You tank engines know nothing of usefulness!" Gordon laughed. "You don't know what it's like to pull the train for the likes of royalty or other important figures!"

"You don't know what it's like to pull an important night train full of expensive fish!" Henry boasted.

"You just run up and down branch lines or scurry about in the yards!" James finished.

"Alright that's enough." Thomas snapped. "You think you're better than everyone just because you're bigger and-"

"One moment Thomas." Gordon cut it. "I do believe running a branchline is important, James."

"Well what about me!?" Percy peeped. "What about all the work I do in the yards for you big bossy boilers!?"

No one responded to this, and Percy growled angrily before closing his eyes and feigning sleep.

"Wow James." Thomas finally said. "I hate you."

The shed was silent now, as James was already asleep. Thomas and Henry were the last asleep, each considering what makes an engine useful. Their size? Their jobs? Their Location?

"I must talk to Toby in the morning…" Thomas muttered, then fell peacefully asleep.


	23. Elderly Engines

**Chapter 23:**

"Toby! Toby!" Thomas called, rolling down his branchline to the tram, who was still sitting in the shed at Elsbridge. "I need some advice!"

"An engine needing advice? On Sodor? I thought this day would never come!" Toby laughed and pulled slightly out of his shed. Toby was only just waking up and just starting to steam. "What's the trouble lad?"

"I've got two questions." Thomas began. "First of all: What do you do with an old engine being bullied by his friends for his age?"

"Edward, that's who you mean, right?" Toby started. "Yes, i've heard Gordon and James talking. They seem to have a bit on him, now don't they?"

"They're still upset about him lying to Henry, and the silly weather keeps slowing him down. What am I supposed to do to get them to stop?"

[]

Edward, meanwhile, was at Wellsworth Station. Sidney Heaver was discussing with the situation of Trevor with the Vicar of Wellsworth. Reverend Charles Laxley was a nice, middle-aged gentleman who owned a large vicarage in the city of Wellsworth. Edward hadn't stopped thinking about the little traction engine since meeting him, and hoped the Vicar would want him, or know someone who could use him.

"So, you've met this tractor?" Rev. Laxley asked Edward.

"Trevor is an old and nice tractor we found in Crock's scrap yard." Edward explained. "He just needs a job, there's already workmen willing to fix him up!"

Rev. Laxley looked down, considering it. "But can I trust your word?"

"Excuse me?" Edward was worried now.

"I'm afraid…" Rev. Laxley paused, looking down the line, "...you engines talk a lot, I hear things. I've heard much about how you've lied to Henry, and I'm just not sure about this."

Edward was disappointed. Not in the Reverend, in himself and his fellow engines. He looked down at his buffers, considering what he could do to make it right. "What can we do?" Sidney Heaver finally spoke up. "What can we do to gain your trust, Reverend?"

[]

"Edward should just struggle on." Toby replied to Thomas after some consideration. "You, unfortunately, can't do much more than what you've already done. Edward is going to have to prove himself somehow…"

"Oh dear." Thomas sighed.

"What?"

"Percy promised James that Edward could beat him in a race." Thomas replied. "That's probably all that Edward could do to prove himself now…"

"Then… that's what he'll have to do!" Toby replied.

[]

Back at Knapford Station, James was asleep on a siding. Percy pulled up beside him. With any other engine, Percy would have blasted his whistle and shocked them awake. But Percy had an altogether different plot today for the bright red jerk. As he stopped beside the number 5 engine's tender, two little boys leapt from his cab. Neil O'Heart had been left behind at Tidmouth at his own request, and Percy had driven to James by himself. The two boys had hopped on at the edge of the yard, and Percy had carefully instructed them.

Geoffrey Black was currently at home, sick. While a substitute driver had been called in for James, they hadn't arrived yet. Percy had moved in, ready to prove his promise about Edward to the red, red engine of the NWR. The two boys were currently shutting off the driver brake and setting James off, on his way down the line.

The boys did so quickly, and hopped back inside Percy. James, still asleep, slowly began rolling along the track, waking slightly but sleep-chuffing nonetheless. Percy and the boys laughed and he quickly pulled away from the scene of the crime. Too quickly, as one of the boys tumbled from his cab. The other jumped out and helped his friend up, but Percy was out of sight now. The boys ran out of the yard, spotted by a signalman who, at the same time, spotted a certain, unscheduled train leaving down the main line.

[]

"Prove myself? Prove myself how?" Edward sighed, still sitting at Wellsworth. The Vicar had made himself quite clear. Edward needed to prove himself trustworthy and really useful, then the Reverend would go to see Trevor.

"I suppose we should work harder? Longer? Stay up late tonight?" Sidney pitched ideas aimlessly. "We could take the Flying Kipper?!"

Just then, the stationmaster ran out onto the platform. "Edward! Edward!" Edward was just preparing to leave, but stopped as the fat little man ran out. "Quick! There's trouble on the line! James is coming down the line and he's not stopping!"

"What happened?" Sidney demanded.

"I haven't a clue, but you need to stay here till Mr. Jobling arrives, he'll know what to do!" And with that, the stationmaster ran back inside his station.

Jeremiah Jobling arrived quickly, holding a shunters pole in his hand. "Sidney, have you any rope?"

"Yes sir? Why?" He responded, picking up a rope stuffed in the corner of Edward's cab.

"Good man!" Jobling got on Edward and pointed behind them. There, charging wildly up the line, smoke tailing from his wheels, was James, shouting and screaming. "Some boys were messing around on James' footplate, they must have started him by accident and now-"

But Jobling was cut off as James came screaming by "-LLLLLLLLPPPPPPPP!" He screamed.

"Whew!" Sidney gasped as smoke filled the cab. "C'mon old boy, we've got to catch up with him!"

Edward didn't hesitate. He started quickly and streaked down the line after James, the smell of smoke filling his nostrils and his boiler bubbling hot, he charged after the red engine.

The chase was on. Edward's old frame shook and groaned as he gave chase, but he struggled on. Beyond the station was Gordon's hill, the infamously huge hill between Maron and Wellsworth that could slow and halt even the great Express engine, that being the origin of its name. So as James and Edward streaked toward it, Edward prayed James would stop.

But he didn't. Edward managed to gain a lot of ground on the red engine as the went up the hill, but James was still ahead as they ran past Maron Station.

"C'mon, c'mon!" Sidney chanted, pushing Edward as hard as he dared.

"Steady Eddie." Jobling cheered, Edward managing to get closer still to his fellow engine.

"My-" Edward groaned and spluttered. "Name… Is EDWARD!" With a burst of steam, he puffed right up to James, coming right up next to him on the track beside. "Jobling! Go!

The inspector crawled from Edward's cabin. Holding bravely onto the handrail, scooching carefully along the bufferbeam, Jeremiah Jobling made it to the front of the old engine. James' problem was now clear. Not only was he out of control, his brakes deactivated by some certain boys, but his wooden brake blocks had once again erupted into flames, unable to function. Jobling batted away the smoke and enacted his daring plan.

Thundering past Cronk, Sidney and Edward steadied themselves as Jolbing hooked a noose of the rope around his pole, and reached it across the gap in the tracks around James' buffer. It caught and he tied the rope down to Edward's buffer. This was to steady the runaway engine. Then, Jeremiah carefully retreated back to Edward's cabin and took control of the old engine, steadying both engines just enough so that Sidney Heaver could leap across into James' cabin and shut off steam.

"OH!" James cried out, his voice cracking and hoarse from the screaming, "Oh thank you! Oh thank you!"

"So-oh-ho!" Edward laughed, out of breath and slowing gently down. "Looks like the 'Old Iron' caught you after all!"

"Godred Crovan… I'm so sorry Edward." James coughed. Gordon thundered past them on the other line, whistling as he did. "I can't believe I said you were slow… I can't believe you actually caught up to me!"

"Nor I!" Edward sighed. "I hope the Vicar hears about this, I dare say this is quite proof i'm still useful!"

[]

Toby trundled along the Ffarquhar branchline. He and Henrietta were headed off the NWR-owned line and up into Mount Anopha, where a quarry, owned by A. W. Dry and co, sat in need of another engine to take a few cars away.

"I've heard that a Diesel engine works up here!" Toby told Henrietta. "I wonder if they're any nice…"

"I've been talking to some of the coaches in Knapford Yards." Henrietta replied. "Hatt is looking to partner with A. W. Dry and buy both the lines to this quarry and the China Clay pits near Brendam Bay. We may need some help from a Diesel."

"You remember that Diesel that came down our old Tramway?" Toby asked.

"The great stupid prat." Crovan recalled. "Broke down on three occasions in one day! And it was all his fault he finally fell in th' drink!"

Toby and Henrietta laughed as they made it into the mountain. Crovan stepped away to talk to the Quarry manager about the job and Toby and Henrietta were directed by a workman over to a siding where some of the cars sat. As a man connected the cars to Henrietta, Toby looked up the line to see the resident of the quarry. First, he was shocked to see the engine was sentient, but then he was shocked again because it was a girl! It was rare for an engine to be female, much to the confusion of the engine world, and Engine genders had yet to be understood by experts and builders alike.

"Hello miss!" Toby called out to her. "What's your name?" The engine stopped, surprised. She looked Toby over quickly, then darted away behind a rock. "Well!" Toby laughed.

"You came on too strong I suppose!" Henrietta added. "Poor gal, isn't there only her up here? She must get lonely!"

"That's Mavis." the worker grunted, directing Toby to the other grouping of cars. "She don' talk all that much, but she works hard- so nobody complains."

Toby smiled as he saw Mavis again, but she disappeared further into the quarry once more. "Does she scare easily?" Toby asked the worker. "I only meant to wish her a good day!"

The worker only shrugged before walking away, his work with Toby done. Toby sighed and pulled away with his load, carefully puffing down the mountain with the rocks. He passed Ffarquhar and Hackenbeck, and found Thomas filling his tanks at Elsbridge. Toby too needed to refill, so he stopped and greeted the tank engine.

"Toby! I've just come from Knapford Station, there's been some action on the main line!" Thomas shouted happily. "Edward did what you said he should! James was all on a runaway and Edward chased him down, caught him with Inspector Jobling and now they're both at Crovan's Gate!"

"Well good for him!" Toby laughed. "Speaking of news, I've just been up to Anopha Quarry, and I met the engine who works there!"

"Oh… a diesel?" Thomas asked with distaste.

"Oh but she's fine." Toby replied. "I've met nasty diesels, but she just seemed scared… and I dare say lonely!"

"She? A female engine?!" Annie and Clarabel gasped. "What a rarity!"

"Indeed!" Toby replied. "I've met very few female engines on any line I've worked. Poor gal doesn't seem to know about our line though."

"What makes you say that?!" Henrietta shouted from behind Toby. "You only glimpsed her twice!"

"She was shocked at seeing me, likely because I'm a tram!" Toby replied.

"Right then." Thomas blew his whistle and began pulling away. "Good talk Toby, I'll see you later!"

Toby rang his bell in response and then pulled out of the station. "Thomas said Edward was at Crovan's Gate with James, I hope that means they'll look into his weather troubles!" Henrietta called.

[]

The workers were. Edward was currently on a small hoist in the small workhouse, with a pair of workers beneath him, analyzing his chassis with a blowtorch. James was on a siding, without brake blocks as they had been removed, and Jobling and another worker were taking some measurements to fit new brakes to the red engine.

"Well well well!" Came a distinguished and booming voice from the doorway. Edward looked over as Sir Topham Hatt walked in. "Looks like Gordon and Henry were wrong about you Edward. They were trying to get me to look into the Railway Society to preserve you!

"At least they didn't tell you to scrap me!" Edward laughed.

"No Edward, you will be mended and then you'll return to work on the Brendam Branch line." Hatt replied. "I'm off to the Great Western Railway the day after tomorrow, and I'll be returning with a new Shunter. I'm taking Percy out of the yard, so the workload should be lighter now!"

"And me sir?" James weakly called.

"James' we are fitting you with new Brake blocks." Hatt replied. "We should have done that after your first accident, but here we are. Then you're back to work!"

"Thank you sir." Edward finally said. "But… has Sidney told you about Trevor? The scrap Tractor?"

"Down in Crock's yard?" Hatt asked. "Yes, and I'll tell Laxley what you've done today. This should be enough proof, eh James?" Hatt smiled and set his finger aside his nose playfully.

And so as Hatt walked back out of the works, Edward smiled and drifted off, satisfied after a long day. ...then a thought occurred to him. "Say, how'd the boys get into the yard undetected anyway?"

[]

"You're bloody insane Percy." Thomas told him, as Percy explained his prank in the quiet sheds that night. "You're an absolutely mad engine."


	24. Of Cows and Cars

**Chapter 24:**

The Wellsworth Vicarage is a nice place. A large Orchard sits on the south part of the property, with a variety of fruits and several beehives, and lots of work is done up there. As Reverend Charles Laxley watched Trevor, who'd been repaired and repainted by Jem Cole, he was quite satisfied with the abilities of the old tractor. Trevor would be useful in his orchard, and renting out the tractor for work would be an option as well.

"Steady now Trevor!" Jem Cole called, as he was currently driving the old machine. "Watch that tree!"

Trevor smiled, feeling at ease and useful as he paced around the orchard. A few bees buzzed past his face as he rolled beneath some apple trees. He smiled and looked at the edge of the orchard, where the tracks ran. Edward was there looking on and smiling, and he winked as Trevor looked over.

"C'mon Edward!" Sidney Heaver called. "Trevor will be alright here, let's get this train to Vicarstown!"

Edward puffed away happily, passing by a new farm. He whistled as he passed by some Cows…. Which turned out to be a mistake. See, these cows were fresh from English countryside, and they weren't used to the bustle and noise of the trains, and Edward had unwittingly scared them. As Edward passed by, the cows were riled up and charged, led by a large bull named Champion, breaking down the fence and running onto the rails, breaking Edward's train. Four freight cars and the brake van were left behind, and the unfortunate guard was left to fend for himself as the cows surrounded his van. "Uh… Help?!"

But Edward was puffing along quickly. He'd felt a small bump, but hadn't thought anything of it, completely unaware of his lost cars.

[]

Back at Knapford, James and Percy were having a row. Thomas had told James about Percy's involvement with the boys, and James had yet to forgive him…. If he would ever forgive him.

"You nearly got me killed!" James shouted.

"I did nothing! All I did was give some boys a nice tour of the yard!" Percy laughed. "And besides, I was getting back at you for being mean to Edward, and look what happened! Ever heard of karma, James?"

"Percy, you are not karma." Henry declared, rolling up beside the bickering engines. "You shouldn't have done that, it could have been serious!"

"Well it wasn't!" Percy snapped. "Look what came out of it? James and Edward got repaired! I only helped you lot!" And with that, he pulled snootily back into the yard.

"Godred Crovan… He's not entirely wrong though…" Ted Brigham stated from inside Henry. "All that happened was a near-accident that ended up with the repair of you two engines…"

"Don't bother explaining Mate." Geoffrey Black called from James's cab. "He's a stubborn bloke."

"I'm telling Hatt! I'm telling Hatt as soon as he gets back!" James declared. "Why'd he have to go off to the GWR anyway?"

[]

"The name's Montague, Sir!" The tank engine replied. "But they say I waddle, so they call me Duck!"

"Well aren't you a smart little engine!" Topham laughed. "Lowham, what do you think?"

"Duck's a good worker, i've watched him from my signal box." Lowham replied. "I'll go talk to the boss!"

[]

Back on Sodor, Vicarstown specifically, Gordon was glaring angrily as a gruff Double-decker bus rolled past the siding that Gordon sat in. "Wha's yur probl'm?" the bus growled.

Gordon had been offended by two too many buses, and was not in the mood to talk to another. So the bus rolled off and Gordon just sat there, starting to fall asleep. Charlie Sand was in his cab, whistling and waiting. "I do wonder where Edward and Sidney are." Sand said. "They were due here a half-hour ago."

"Probably broke down, poor old engine." Gordon annoyedly replied. Charlie and Sidney were very good friends, and they would often sit and talk when their engines were waiting in the same station.

A few minutes later, Edward's whistle sounded from down the line, and the old engine puffed toward the station briskly, but entirely out of breath. "Sorry chaps, our train was broken by some cows near Wellsworth, and we had to go back and fetch the cars." Sidney explained.

"Ha!" Gordon laughed. "Fancy that! Allowing a COW to break your train?" Gordon mooed mockingly, and then moved off the siding to prepare for the next Express run.

"Ignore that Edward." came Toby's voice from nearby. Edward looked into the station to see Toby waiting at a platform. "Cows are such trouble, he doesn't understand!"

"Thank you, but what are you doing here Toby?" Edward asked. "You run the Ffarquhar line, not the main line!"

"And you run the Brendam line, not the main line." Toby winked with his retort. "I've brought some cars due for the Mainland. I see you have too!"

Edward sighed. "Sure, but it was due here half an hour ago, what a delay!"

"Cheer up Eddie!" Henrietta called, the nickname winning a scowl from Edward that she didn't see. "If those cows scare so easily, maybe they'll delay the Express!"

"Are you expecting me to delay!?" Gordon shouted indignantly, butting back into the conversation as he pulled up to the platform. "I say HA to that! If a cow stopped me, I'd just wheesh steam and scare it away!" Toby and Edward simultaneously mooed, winning a moment of angry silence from Gordon, who then blew his whistle and sped away.

[]

"I'm just happy you came to visit me, brother!" Lowham laughed, patting Topham's shoulder as they walked along a station platform.

"I didn't come to see you!" Topham rolled his eyes. "I wasn't even aware you were working here, on the Great Western Railway! I merely came to select a new shunter engine!"

"Ah, this line is overpopulated anyway, you'll get Duck at a good price!" Lowham laughed. "Your Wild North Western Line needs him more than we do!"

"It's called the North Western Railway, and yes, I'm aware. Your controller wrote me and suggested this exchange!" Topham loved his brother greatly, but he could be quite exasperating some days.

"Say, where's Jane anyway? Didn't want to say hello?"

"Not after '43 she wouldn't."

"You know that night was just a simple mistake, right?"

"And so was coming here."

[]

Henry and Thomas sat in Knapford Station, both waiting on the signal to leave on their way. Thomas only had his coaches, but Henry was pulling a line of particularly nasty trucks, including some of the more infamous ones.

"Are you having any trouble Henry?" Annie asked as Henry shoved slightly backwards in an attempt to calm the trucks.

"Just these bloody trucks!" Henry growled, slamming into the truck in front. "SCRuffey's in the back riling up Fred a few more up, and then there's that new truck, DUN."

"You mean that truck that sprang to life overnight?" Thomas asked. "I heard about him, what happened exactly?"

"He was on a siding in Kirk Ronan a few weeks back, and those troublesome boys decided to cover him in graffiti, with the letters D, U and N." Henry explained. "They pushed him somewhat as they did and he suddenly shouted at them!"

"I expect it was James who found him the next morning?" Clarabel asked.

"Actually it was Lady Hatt, who's hat had blown into the siding." Ted Brigham laughed. "She alerted the stationmaster of the graffiti and then he told her that the truck hadn't been sentient!"

"What an odd-" Thomas' comment was cut off as a conductor blew his whistle, indicating both trains could leave. "Finally! Goodbye Henry, we'll talk tonight!"

Henry, buckling somewhat as SCRuffey, DUN, and Fred tried to hold back, but the engine was too strong for them. He made his way down the main line, making good time through Crosby. But as he approached the Viaduct before Wellsworth, he found warning flags beside the rails, indicating for him to slow down. Ted pulled the brake and Henry slowed, stopping as he reached the Viaduct. There, Gordon too was stopped, and between the engines sat a single cow, roaming from track to track, blocking the line up.

"What's this Gordon?" Henry asked.

"This bloody cow won't get off the line!" Gordon grumbled. "Every time it moves off my track, I get all steamed up only for it to roam back to my track."

Henry attempted the same strategy, steaming up just as the cow moved, but he could never make it.

"Hit it! Hit it! Hit it!" The trucks chanted, led by crass-voiced and screaming Fred Pelhay. Fred began changing the chant, but the edits are not to be written down for the excessive profanity Fred knew.

They tried to ram Henry further as the cow roamed over, but Henry pushed back, finally backing up the line. "I don't want to hurt her." He declared, backing away from Gordon.

"We'll tell the Stationmaster at Crosby and have him send for the farmer!" Ted decided. And they did.

"That must be Bluebell!" the Stationmaster cried. "She's been looking for her calf, Percy has it, I'll have him come down here!"

"How did the Calf make it to the yards?" Henry wondered.

[]

Percy peeped on his whistle as he approached the Viaduct, with the calf aboard and being calmed by Neil O'Heart. "Hullo Gordon! Cow got your tongue?!" Percy laughed.

"Cow what?" Gordon asked. "The phrase is 'cat got your tongue', that doesn't even make sense!"

Charlie Sand and Neil O'Heart reunited the mother and baby, then led them away from the bridge as the farmer rode up in his Lorry. "Express coming through!" Gordon shouted, blasting his whistle and finally making his way to Knapford Station. Percy laughed and waited as his driver got back on board.

Then, Edward and Toby puffed up the line. "We've been relaxing with Trevor over near Wellsworth, considering the line was blocked." Edward told Percy.

"That tractor does seem nice, I'm glad you found him Edward!" Percy replied.

"Trevor is a good gent." Toby added. "Now excuse me, Henrietta and I are needed back on the branch line!"

"It was a cow, wasn't it Percy?" Edward asked as Toby left.

"A cow blocking the great Express engine, indeed!" Percy laughed. "Oh the indignity, as the bloke might say!"

Edward and Percy laughed as Henry passed by on the middle track between them, and then both set off backwards, whistling goodbye as they did.

[]

Cows were the talk of Tidmouth that night. Edward even came back to Tidmouth for a special stay, much to Gordon's dismay and annoyance.

"I must say! Two big engines scared of one cow?" James laughed.

"Don't you start on me James." Henry warned. "Cows are worse than Trucks for goodness sake!"

"Speak for yourself, Square wheels!" Gordon snapped at Henry. "I only stopped because- because…"

"Yes Gordon?" Thomas chided.

"...Because I didn't want to frighten her, see!?" He spluttered. Percy bust up laughing and Gordon slunk backward into his shed.

"Oh yes Gordon, I do see." Edward laughed knowingly. Gordon knew Edward saw only too well.

"Oh the indignity…." He sighed, and shut his eyes tight.

[]

"Oh the indignity…." Sir Topham Hatt sighed. Lowham had just split the seat of his trousers while disembarking Duck, Topham's new purchase.

"That's alright, I've got me sewing kit at home!" Duck's driver, Miss Elaine Peters, told the Hatt twins.

"I'm still surprised at seeing a woman as an engine driver!" Topham laughed, helping Elaine down from the engine's cab. "I have no problem with it, but I must ask, do you face much controversy for it?"

"Ah, the Great Western Railway's faced plenty o' controversy over the years, it's nay bad." Elaine replied. Duck blew his whistle in response and Elaine stroked his tanks gently.

"Well, you'll fit right in despite it on my railway!" Topham declared. "The only difference from my other drivers is that, of course, you're a woman!"

"So… she'll fit in just as well as I fit in my trousers?" Lowham laughed, earning a smack in the head by both of them.

"You watch yourself Lowham!" Duck warned. "You're already in hot water for that birthday cake!"

"Godred Crovan, Lowham, what did you do this time?" Topham sighed. Lowham smiled wide and Elaine face-palmed, so Topham cut him off. "Never mind, let's just be getting back to your flat."

Elaine situated Duck on a siding and bid goodbye, following the twin Hatts to the road. "I do hope this railway really needs us. I don't want you scrapped." Elaine sighed, patting the engine's boiler.

"Oh don't you worry darling." Duck replied kindly. "I've heard of this railway, I'm ready for some action. All sentient Engines? Percival the Caterpillar engine? A private railway like that is perfect for us. I promise."


	25. The Third Tank Engine

_(Hello readers! First things first, Thank you to tweetsie12 for the review! I'd like to acknowledge: You say that the dates of my story don't quite line up. _

_I'm aware of this. I actually spent a little while before I began publishing looking over the Railway Series, Tv Show, Sodor: Its History and Peoples (Or whatever it's called, my bad), real history, and other fanfiction trying to come up with a date, and I finally decided on 1962 being the entrance of our favorite blue tank engine. There's a lot of reasoning that I currently won't disclose for spoilers, (I have planned the Railway Series and up to 'Big World Big Adventures!' and Season 23 :D ) and I'll try to make things clear as I go along. But for now, just be satisfied with the reason being that the NWR begins expanding due to the Beeching Cuts, which began in '62._

_Hope you all keep enjoying, because today, my favorite little Great Westerner joins the NWR!_

_-HC712)_

**Chapter 25:**

Duck tooted his whistle as he came across the Viaduct-by-Wellsworth, his driver and new controller aboard, both half-asleep and ready to reach Tidmouth. He took in his surroundings, looking down the line as he passed every siding and branchline. It was early morning, the sun only a glint of orange on the horizon. He smiled as a robin passed over his boiler, and took in the ocean breeze as he reached Knapford, which was near the seaside. He stopped as he let off Sir Topham Hatt, and then they rolled onward to Tidmouth sheds.

Elaine stopped him at the edge of the turntable and disembarked, heading off in hopes of finding a nice tavern. She didn't call goodbye, so Duck simply turned to his new coworkers.

"What a brightly-colored group!" He laughed to himself, looking them over. He knew their names already, Sir Topham Hatt having boasted for some time the previous day. In the westernmost shed was Thomas, number 1 and sleep-whistling quietly. Duck recalled another E2 tank engine he'd known, a funny little character named Timothy.

In the next shed there was Percival. Duck had met this silly Caterpillar engine a few years back on the GWR, and it appeared the little engine had been rebuilt yet again since he'd last seen him.

Then came Edward, an aged and kind face sleeping peacefully, but Duck could see he was the kind of engine to be picked on for his age.

Next was the 'big blue brute', as Hatt had described him, Gordon. The engine seemed to be sleeping discontentedly, his dignified face scrunched up angrily.

Then there was James, who also seemed to be sleeping angrily. Duck could tell that James was the sort of boastful engine. Any engine with that color of paint was very noticeable, and probably loved the attention.

And last, in the eastmost shed was Henry. Henry seemed worried as he slept, and flinched ever so slightly everytime Thomas whistled.

"This ought to be quite the railway to work on." Duck whispered to himself. "Engines from LBSC, LNER, GWR, ...looks like Mr. Hatt doesn't care where his engines come from, does he?"

A putt-putt from a car engine was heard along the road, and Duck looked over to see a crimson bus running up beside the yard. Surprisingly, the bus turned off the road and came near the sheds. "Hullo!" He quietly and cheerily called. "I assume you're the new tank engine?"

"My name is Montague, but you can call me Duck." Duck replied. "What's a bus doing so far from the road?"

"Thomas asked me to come check up on them tonight." The bus replied. "He's a good friend, and Edward over there keeps getting picked on, and I'm just supposed to make sure it's all alright over here." Duck looked back at the sheds, realizing he was right about the old engine, he did get picked on. "M'name's Bertie, by the way. I run all over the island along with me brothers."

"Good to meet you Bertie." Duck replied. "Tell me, is there often fights? Do they pick on each other much?"

"Well…" Bertie thought for a second, looking over the engines. "See, there was a big fight just a few months back, left them all divided. Most have made up by now, but they can certainly get on each other's nerves… and my nerves."

"Nerves? What nerves? We're made of metal, not flesh!" Duck laughed, causing Bertie a stupor of thought. "Sorry, didn't mean to muck up your thoughts, tell me more!"

"Oh!" Bertie shook his face. "Well, I believe you're meant to be the new shunter, right? Percy over there was the shunter, but Gordon and especially James have been picking on him recently, I'd watch out for them. Then Edward, like I said, is picked on for being the oldest engine …but there's not much. The line runs smooth and passengers rarely complain."

"Are there any other engines?" Duck asked. "Hatt mentioned Toby and a Marklin engine as well."

"Toby sleeps in a lean-to on the Ffarquhar branch line." Bertie replied. "The Marklin engine isn't welcome here anymore, as it isn't sentient."

Duck pondered this, and looked back to the engines before him. He'd worked with more lifeless engines than sentient ones, this line was sure to be a change in pace if they didn't welcome such engines.

"I've got to kip off to the bus depot, I'll see you around Duck!" Bertie called, now pulling away and back past the yard.

[]

A few hours later, Duck woke up slowly. A different car was there, and the young man who owned it appeared to be waking the engines up; A firelighter, Duck assumed.

"Well well well. Another tank engine!" Gordon laughed, awake and looking at Duck.

"Be nice Gordon." Edward scolded, then looked over at Duck. "Sorry about him, he's a bit of a git!"

"You be nice too Edward!" the firelighter laughed. "You all are so angsty in the morning! Why do I have to be the one to hear your load of garbage?"

"Because you're the one who wakes us up." Thomas replied.

Duck laughed, enjoying the fireworks. "My my! I've never met such engines as you!" Duck looked across the sheds, and discovered that, although Percy had been the second engine for the firelighter to wake, the caterpillar engine was still asleep. "Percival! Time to wake up!" Duck called in a sing-songy voice.

"-mm?-" Percy stirred, opening his eyes slightly and yawning. "...oh, g'mornin' Montague." Percy closed his eyes again, then jolted awake! "MONTAGUE!?" He shouted in shock.

"Hello Percival!" Duck laughed. "Glad to see you never change, seeing as I still have to wake you up!"

"What on earth are you doing here?" Percy demanded. "You're a-

"-A Great Western Engine!" Duck finished Percy's sentence. "Indeed I am, and you'll never take my heritage from me! But alas, the GWR no longer had need of me, so your Mr. Hatt came and bought me off!"

"That's SIR Topham Hatt to you!" James snapped unfairly. "What was it, Montague?"

"Well, that's my given name," Duck began, "But sometimes I waddle, so friends call me Duck!"

Henry and Gordon laughed at this, somewhat rudely, but Thomas and Percy blew their whistles sharply, ceasing their laughter. "That's alright Duck!" Thomas said, looking back at Montague, "We call Percival 'Percy' here!"

"Good morning all!" Came the voice of a tram with a coach puffing along the East Side-line. "So! This is what Hatt called me for?"

"M'name's Duck!" Duck laughed. "I, knowing what Sir Hatt told me, you must be Toby, and Henrietta!"

"My! What a gentlengine!" Henrietta giggled.

"Yes, what a gentlengine…." Gordon quietly repeated, like the Grinch plotting a scheme.

[]

Later that day, Duck and Percy were scooting about the yard, the young Caterpillar engine showing the new engine the in's and out's of the NWR's rolling stock.

"Now those over there- those are the branch line coaches." Percy indicated the tan-colored coaches in the northeast corner of Knapford Yard. "Those are for James and Edward- NEVER confuse them with the Express coaches because if James is pulling the Express coaches there will be blood."

"Blood?" Duck questioned, halting for a second.

"James hurt the lead one last year when they got in a bit of a fight." Percy explained. "Any time he gets close to those coaches now, there's a fight. That's why the express leaves from Platform 1 and James always leaves from platforms 4, 5 or 6."

"Oh my." Elaine whispered from inside Duck. "Quite the railway of stories!"

"You want stories?" Neil O'Heart asked. "I'll tell you about the time Bob Hardy got drunk!"

"You want stories?!" Shouted a silly and gruff voice from among the cars.

"Godred Crovan, here we go again." Percy cursed quietly. "SCRuffey."

"Backing Signals!" jeered a salt van on one side.

"Run himself right into a coal pit!" a tanker added.

"Glad the Welsh Coal came in handy… TO CUSHION YOUR FALL!" Fred Pelhay roared.

"Shut up!" Duck snapped, with a voice of shocking clarity and power. "What's this? Percival makes a mistake and you lot won't let it go? Shut up! Knowing trucks as I do, you've probably caused a great deal more accidents than this little engine ever could, so Shut it!"

The trucks fell silent, looking at each other in shock. "Well!" Percy whispered

A deep whistle sounded from the platform, reminding the tank engine's that Gordon was waiting on the Express. "Shall I get the coaches or will you?" Duck asked.

"Uh, y-you can get them if-if-if you'd like." Percy stuttered, somewhat shocked. Duck nodded (as much as he could) and rolled past the Branch line coaches and picked up the Wild Nor Wester, then rolled out of the yard.

"...ah blow 'im." SCRuffey growled quietly. Percy snickered and followed his old friend out to the station.

Duck had already lined up the Express as Percy made it out, and the GWR engine was sitting on the farthest platform, out of the way of the other trains, asleep.

"Goodness, he fell asleep faster than you Gordon!" Percy chuckled.

"Yes." Gordon slowly agreed. "...he's quite an engine."

"A good engine!" One coach called.

"He's very gentle!" The back one agreed.

"Well as it is said in my homeland," Duck began, revealing himself. "There are two ways of doing things: The Great Western way, or the wrong way!"

"What about the North Western way?" Gordon jeered. "You think everything you do is right, simply because you are a Great Western Engine?"

"Do you think everything you do is important just because you're a bigger engine who pulls the express?" Percy retorted.

Gordon responded only with a toot from his whistle and puffed speedily away. "Does he often act this rude, boss you around like that?" Duck asked as Gordon left.

"Yes, James too and sometimes Henry." Percy replied.

"I see." Duck replied, thoughtfully. "I think I should talk to Toby, when does he come in?"

"He should be here for a Passenger train in about a half-hour." Percy replied. "Why?"

[]

A 32 minutes later, by Duck's count, Toby pulled into Knapford station. "Hullo Montague!" Toby called. "Or do you really prefer Duck?"

"Either is fine, shall I call you Tobias?" Duck replied.

"Alright. You call me Toby, I'll call you Duck." Toby replied with a laugh. "So, word on the trucks is that you need my brain?"

"But do you have a brain? Or are we all made of metal?" Duck prodded. Toby smiled wittily. "Look, I need some way of getting a few big problems off of poor Percy's bunker."

"Gordon, James and maybe even Henry?" Toby replied wisely.

"Exactly." Duck replied. "What's something a pair of Great Western Engines can do to annoy the big prats? What makes these engines tick? What can we break or block?"

Toby looked around for a moment. Their drivers, Crovan Aldrich and Elaine Peters, had stepped away, and the other engines weren't around. "The big engines like to sleep, I suppose if you prevented them from sleeping you could get their attention." He finally replied.

"...who sleeps in Tidmouth Sheds?" Duck asked.

"Those three, Percy, Thomas, and I suppose you do now as well!" Toby replied. "Edward usually sleeps at Wellsworth now, I sleep at Ffarquhar… Except I suppose Thomas may be sleeping at Ffarquhar now that my sheds have been expanded."

"Excellent. And when will the big prats be at the sheds tonight?" Duck asked with finality.

"I don't know everything Duck." Toby retorted. "But you can check with your driver, he- SHE'd know the schedule!"

Duck nodded. "Thank you Toby, you're a very useful engine!" Duck then trundled back into the yard, leaving Toby quite confused and curious.


	26. The Great Western Way

**Chapter 26:**

It was late afternoon, and Henry the big engine was tired. He'd been taking a long, slow, freight train that had taken most of the day, and every car he disliked, including the Spiteful Brakevan, had been put on. There'd been a long delay on Gordon's hill, a delay when Edgar the bus broke down on a level crossing, and he was quite tired of the day when he finally returned from his round-trip on the Main line.

"Shall I take you to Tidmouth, Ted? Or are you going somewhere else tonight?" Henry asked his driver.

"Thank you Henry." Ted replied. "Take me home!"

Ted, as you probably know by now, lived just across the yard from Tidmouth Sheds. What you may not understand by now is that, to Tidmouth Sheds, there were three lines. One led off to the side and loop lines, on led into the yard, and the middle and most-used one lead from Tidmouth Station. Tidmouth was a lesser-used station but it was the next point after Knapford, and therefore drivers and other workers used it almost exclusively. Henry was currently on the line leading to the yard, which rode alongside Ted's street. Ted sometimes liked to use this as a shortcut, as Henry could drive himself back to the shed once Ted headed off for home.

As Henry now passed by the yard, he stopped suddenly as the bunker of a tank engine poked out of a siding, it's owner struggling with a nasty line of trucks in the yard. Percy shoved forward, but Ted had stumbled and fallen in Henry's cab. For a brief second, Henry was afraid Ted had fallen out and died.

_And now he was having PTSD. Lying in the snow. He'd heard Owen groan and yell, but he couldn't see him. As he faded in and out of conscience, he could tell his driver wasn't there. Henry had hoped with as much brain power as he had left that Old Bailey had been taken to a hospital, and suddenly Henry was on his way. Carried on the flatbed of a powerful crane by a pair of British Railway's engines he didn't know, bleeding from his living parts and leaking water and dropping small bits of metal on the track along the way, only able to wonder where Owen was, and where he'd be when Henry returned… if Henry returned… if he even-_

"-HENRY!" Shouted Percy. "Godred Crovan, you've gone so pale! You're sweating! I didn't know we could sweat! Are you okay?"

"Get out of the way!" Henry sharply replied, his face turning red in stark contrast. Percy was sitting on the track in front of the big engine. His voice turned to panic as he remembered his worries. "Where's Ted!?"

"I'm right here mate!" Ted called, calmly and rubbing his head. "Just hit me head, gave me a fright. C'mon, let's go home."

"Move, Caterpillar!" Henry said with disgust as Percy backed onto a siding.

"Well I never!" Percy spluttered as Henry passed by roughly. "That wasn't my fault! Bloody trucks locked up their brakes, that's all!"

Duck came 'round from the other side of the yard, having heard the commotion. "What was that all about?" He asked.

"Exactly what i've been saying!" Percy squeaked. "These big engines bully me for no reason! Push me out of the way! Call me names! I can't take it anymore!"

Duck yanked hard on the line of trucks that had caused the problem, and looked very sternly at the leader. "You cause trouble like that again and I'll see to it you're scrapped." He threatened. The truck gulped and then looked at the ground, silent. Duck pushed the line into place with ease then returned to his angrily grumbling partner. "Don't worry yourself Percival. Henry's got one last run this evening, and he'll be back to the sheds the same time as Gordon and James. Then, my plan will be revealed."

"You still haven't told me it, and it's been a week since you arrived and created this scheme!" Percy replied, curious.

"You'll see tonight, and so with they." Duck replied, somewhat ominously. A deep whistle echoed across the yard, and both shunter engines recalled the Express was due. "I'll fetch the Express, you tend to that last group of cars." Duck told Percy, then disappeared down the line.

Percy looked back at Henry, who was in his shed and sleeping uncomfortably, his face screwed up. Percy scowled and returned to his work.

[]

Presently, James was stopped near Wellsworth. He was pulling a slow passenger train, but had made too good of time and now was waiting on Edward and his passengers, since he was a guaranteed connection. As he waited, Trevor the Traction engine came up beside him, smiling cheerfully and hauling a cart of fruit from the Orchard. "Hullo James!" Trevor called. "Are you waiting on Edward?"

"Of course!" James replied. "I've made great time today, too great unfortunately. Edward's not late… yet."

"I'd think you wouldn't be so hard on him still!" Trevor said. "He did save your life after all, and went terrifically fast! Not to mention i'm only speaking to you today because of him!"

"I'm not complaining Trevor." James replied. "Just telling." James looked back down the branchline. A distant whistle was heard, letting James know that Edward would soon arrive. He looked back to Trevor to see the little tractor frowning. "What's the matter Trevor?"

"Nothing James." Trevor sighed.

James watched Trevor for a moment more, the tractor seeming to ignore him. "Come out now, what's troubling you?"

"I just would like to do more than run the Vicarage I suppose." Trevor admitted with a sigh. Trevor was staring off into the distance, his eyes lost in memory. "I'm not ungrateful, i'm just discontent. An owner I once had, years ago, let his children play and ride on me as I worked. I liked that very much." James studied Trevor for a moment, then looked back at the station. Geoffrey Black and Jem Cole, drivers of James and trevor respectively, were talking on the platform and seemed just fine, a very different conversation than what James and Trevor were having.

"You don't think she'd go for that?" Geoffrey asked. Jem shook his head, a man of few words. "Like, she won't go for it because she won't like it? Or because she doesn't like me?"

Jem Cole shrugged, then, as Edward blew his whistle and puffed into the station, he stepped back to Trevor and pulled away. James waited as Edward's passengers transferred to his, and then he blew his whistle and took off, only saying a quick 'Hullo' to Edward before heading off for Crosby, the only stop between him and Knapford, where'd he could ditch his train and head to the sheds to sleep.

[]

The late and fading sun beat down as Gordon, the proud Express engine, brought his last load of the day into Knapford. It was a line of disgusting trucks, some full of fish, some full of oil, and one full of literal waste. It was not is favorite job, but it was one that he did with grace to please Sir Topham Hatt. This line of trucks he pulled weekly from Knapford Harbor, and he took it to Crosby station to stay the night before it would be rearranged the following day.

He 'Poot-Poot'-ed on his whistle as he passed Toby on his way back, and then again as he passed James.

Then the big engine stopped at Crosby, waiting as he was uncoupled. He sat there, thinking to himself how nice it would be to reach the sheds that night, when he looked over across the platform. There, sitting on a bench with his arms wrapped tight around Darcy Sand (Gordon's Driver's daughter), was the Firelighter! Ivo Hugh and Darcy Sand were very close, and Gordon shuddered as they began to snog each other. He blew his whistle and called out: "Charlie! Do you see what I see?"

"Whatever do you mean?" Charlie asked, poking his head out of his Cabin. Then he saw it too. "Godred Crovan!" Charlie shouted, and Darcy and Ivo peeled away from each other just long enough to see Mr. Sand storming their direction.

"Oh-ho-ho!" Gordon chuckled. Charlie had always been protective of his daughter, and Ivo was a very good young man. Gordon thought it was a good match, but couldn't help but laugh as Charlie Sand pulled them apart embarrassingly, giving a beat-down to his daughter.

"There comes a time in a man's life when he is ready to have a relationship!" Charlie ranted. "I know Young Mr. Hugh, and he isn't there yet!"

"Father, this is my decision!" Darcy argued. "Ivo and I-"

"Ivo and you nothing!" Charlie cut in. "I know him and-"

"And what, Charlie?" Gordon interrupted from across the platform. "Ivo is a wonderful gent and you know it! I think he's-"

"Gordon I'd like you to kindly keep out of this!" Charlie snapped. "There are two ways of doing things you know! There's-"

"The Great Western way," Shouted an excited and hidden voice,"-Or the wrong way!" Duck and Elaine Peters rolled up from behind Gordon, as Duck had been the one pulling away Gordon's line.

"And I must say that your daughter is quite in the right, Chuck!" Elaine continued.

"The Great Western Way has nothing to do with this!" Gordon boomed.

"While I thank you for your opinion," Charlie darkly replied, attempting to keep a friendly smile on his face. "This does not concern you Madam! It's a matter of family and i'd like you and your Great Western Way to keep out of it!"

"Well!" Duck laughed. "That's the last straw! C'mon Elaine, we have a shed to return to!" Elaine looked at the sight before rolling her eyes and returning to her engine, and puffing backwards away.

"Godred Crovan's grace!" Gordon grumbled, just as a conductor's whistle blew, indicating for Gordon to leave. "C'mon Charlie. If we hurry back to the shed, you can deal with your daughter as soon as you get home!"

Charlie looked at Darcy and Ivo, who were still holding hands, and gave Ivo a look that meant death before returning to his engine dutifully, and puffing toward Wellsworth to turn Gordon around. "Stupid Great Westerner. Just when I had it going." Charlie grumbled.

[]

James was waiting on the siding as Henry and Gordon returned almost on top of each other, and they stopped at Knapford. "Good Evening!" James called.

"C'mon James!" Gordon called. "You too Henry! If we hurry back to the sheds, maybe we can talk before the tank engines arrive!"

"It'll only be the shunters now!" Ted Brigham announced. "Bob Hardy told me that Thomas was moving to the sheds on Ffar-farar-fafraqu-"

"Ffarquhar!" Henry finished, feeling like the only one on the island who could pronounce it. "Speaking of the shunters, where are they! My coaches are still here!"

The big engines looked around, but Percy nor Duck was anywhere to be seen. "Silly little engines must have forgotten?" James offered. "Let's check the sheds."

"You engines be safe, we're off to the tavern!" Geoffrey Black called, disembarking his engine. "Buh-bye!" So James, Gordon and Henry left their Drivers in Knapford and headed off to Tidmouth.

Passing by the station, Gordon, in the lead, could see something was wrong. He halted for a moment and all three hit each other's buffers. "Hey!" Shouted James, who was in the middle and therefore hit on both sides. "What's going on?!"

"James, go through the yards and come to the sheds on that line. Henry, you go on the sideline junction." Gordon ordered. "There's going to be trouble in Tidmouth tonight."

"What do you mean?" the other engines wondered, and they soon found out. With an engine on each of the three lines, all three could see what Gordon had seen from the Station.

Duck the Great Western Engine sat on the turntable, with a confident smirk on his face as each of the big engines glowered. Percy sat behind him, in Gordon's berth, with less confidence but certainly not backing down from the challenge. "Hello boys." Duck said, his face never showing weakness.

"What are you doing on the turntable Duck?" Henry demanded.

"Let us in! I need sleep!" James shouted.

"I needed your attention!" Duck laughed. "And, I'll get off when I DAMN well feel like it!" The cuss shocked Henry and James, who backed up ever so slightly, but Gordon locked eyes with Percy.

"What is this about, Percy?" Gordon asked, with a voice of false reason and confusion, trying to egg Percy into letting it go.

"I'll speak for my client, if you please." Duck told Gordon. "Look, when I came and heard stories, I tried to give you all a chance. I tried to believe that you weren't as much of bullies as Percy and Bertie had said. But you lost that chance, and it became clear there needed to be a change."

Duck paused for effect. Gordon was still watching Percy, but Montague certainly had Henry and James's attention. "What sort of change do you plan on enacting?" Henry asked.

Gordon now looked up too, and Duck continued. "Where I come from, there are two ways of doing things. The Great Western way or-"

"The wrong way." Gordon finished. "You haven't stopped telling us.

"Please don't interrupt." Duck asked, like a school teacher of an unruly class. "See, Where I come from, only one creature tells me what to do. Not some bigger engines, not tank engines, not even my driver! But the Controller."

"Indeed!" Boomed the controller's voice, as he stepped out of his car next to Percy. Duck gulped, apparently unprepared for this confrontation. "I am the controller of this railway, and I'd like to know, what is the meaning of all this!?"

The five engines looked at each other, then back at Hatt. Shockingly, it was Percy who now spoke up. "Please sir, Duck is only trying to teach these Bossy Boilers a lesson!"

"Really? What sort of lesson?" Hatt demanded. "Not to control and order around other engine? Because it seems to me that that is exactly what you're doing now Duck!" Duck was at a loss for words, and James snickered. "BUT!" Topham shouted. "He's right! There is only one controller on this railway, and that's me!" Sir Topham Hatt crawled up onto Duck's dome, sat and looked around. "Now. Duck, you will allow these engines into the sheds. Gordon, James and Henry, you will speak to Percy and Duck till you understand their point of view, and you will cease to do WHATEVER it is they find hurtful. AM. I CLEAR?"

Elaine Peters stepped out of the Turntable control bunker and helped Topham off of Duck. Then, the Great Western engine pulled into his shed and remained silent until every engine was situated in his shed.

"Can I have my shed back?" Gordon asked.

"No. You can tomorrow." Percy replied with dignity.

So Gordon sat in Percy's shed on the east side of the sheds. Hatt left and the engines remained silent for a few minutes longer until Percy finally spoke up. "I suppose we can all agree on one thing." He said.

"And what's that?" James asked.

Percy looked around, and discovered he was the center of attention. "Sir Topham Hatt is the Fat Controller of the NWR."

And no one disagreed.


	27. An Average, Yet Exciting Morning

**Chapter 27:**

May 22nd was an early morning for Ivo Hugh. Being the firelighter meant he always had to get up earlier than the sun itself, even in the warm summer mornings. But he did, dutifully every day, despite the weather, sickness or exhaust. But today was even earlier, as he had to awaken 5 engines in Tidmouth, 2 engines in Ffarquhar, and 1 in Wellsworth. Ivo lived in the town of Crosby, which was situated nearly perfectly between every one of his stops. So as he hopped in his little old car that morning, he set off for Tidmouth, Tidmouth being the location of the most engines.

He rode up to the roundhouse and started with Henry, who usually slept in the western shed where Ivo would always begin. "Good Morning Henry!" He called as the big green engine stirred. "Any nice dreams?"

"Engines don't dream Ivo." Henry replied. "We engines only return to our memories as we sleep."

"Well then, any good memories?" Ivo asked.

Henry thought about it. "I've forgotten."

So Ivo moved to the next shed, where James slept with his face scrunched up. Ivo never talked to James in the morning, as James was not a morning engine. Next however, came Percy who'd stolen Gordon's shed for the night. Percy was always quick to fall back asleep, but Ivo knew just the way to keep him awake. "Percy!" He called in a sing-song voice. "We're going to rebuild you!"

"Not again!" Percy cried out as he opened his eyes, then looked around. "I fall for that every morning, don't I?"

"Yes Percival." Duck the new engine groaned as Ivo Hugh started him up. "All week long! Every morning, that's what I hear."

Ivo moved to Gordon, who took longer to steam up today. "What's the matter with you Gordon?" Ivo asked expectantly.

"I don't know, but I don't feel right!" Gordon moaned. "My face feels all stuffed up, but I can't sneeze! I wonder if something is wrong with my smokebox, should I have it looked at?"

But right then, another car pulled up near the sheds. Ivo gulped, as it was Gordon's Driver, Charlie Sand. While Charlie was a nice enough man, Ivo was dating his daughter, and Mr. Sand didn't take too kindly to that. "Gordon, I think it's time we cleaned out your smokebox!" Charlie announced as Gordon complained. He reached into the back of his car and pulled out an object that appeared to be a comically large Toothbrush. "Since you have a face covering yours, we'll have to use this!"

The other engines laughed, and Gordon. "Oh the indignity… ATCHOO!" Gordon sneezed tremendously, blasting dirt from off the ground below him and in all directions.

"Say it don't spray it Gordon!" James shouted.

Ivo laughed and quickly entered his car. Turning over the motor, he looked up just in time to see Charlie Sand glare at him, and then shove the oversized toothbrush in Gordon's mouth.

Taking to the main roads, Ivo made his way back through his own hometown and past it, toward Wellsworth. With the roads mostly empty in the morning, he made as good a time as an engine and reached Wellsworth Shed just as the sun began peeking across the distant seas.

"Good morning Edward!" Ivo called, stoking the engine's fire carefully. "The weather's good today, you shouldn't have any problems!"

"Ah, thank you Ivo." Edward sighed contently as the warmth spread through his boiler. "Are you off to Ffarqu-farffe-Farfromhom- to Thomas's Branch line now?"

"Indeed I am off to _Ffarquhar_." Ivo corrected. "I'll need to move quickly to wake both Toby and Thomas, so forgive me if I rush!"

[]

Meanwhile at Ffarquhar, Toby and Thomas were already awake and awaiting Ivo Hugh. The morning was calm, and Anopha mountain loomed nearby, with some slight mist coming off it. With the sunrise, it was quite a sight. Toby was enjoying the view, but Thomas was somewhat wishing he could go back to sleep. "Isn't Anopha stunning in the morning?" Toby asked.

"Yes, I suppose so." Thomas replied, looking at the rock formation. "I've only slept here one night, should I be familiar with this?" Toby didn't reply, so he closed his eyes again but found sleep difficult to come by. He looked around and saw Toby was staring at Anopha, his eyes out of focus, so Thomas decided to talk to the tram instead. "Did you have any good memories last night?" he cautiously asked.

"Oh!" Toby exclaimed. "Actually, I was meaning to ask you something. Do you recall a week or so ago, when you asked me how to help Edward, who was being teased?"

"And you suggested he prove himself? Yes, I remember, why?"

"I saw that day again last night, and I realized something!"

"Out with it Toby."

"When you first approached me that morning, you said you had two questions, but you only ever asked one!" Toby looked at Thomas, who searched his memory for the second question.

Thomas' face suddenly lit up. "I remember!" He exclaimed. "I wanted to ask you, you being such an experienced and wise engine. What makes an engine really useful? Well and truly an asset to their railway?"

Toby was amused by the question. "What makes an engine useful?" Toby repeated. "What makes… what makes one useful? ...what a thought-provoking question!" He laughed and looked back to Anopha, pondering Thomas' inspired and deep query.

Just then, the good firelighter's car rounded a bend and came into view.

Thomas smiled as Ivo Hugh climbed inside his cab and prepared his fire, and Thomas too looked up to Mt. Anopha. As Ivo worked, the wind picked up slightly, coming down from the mountain, and Thomas briefly heard an intriguing sound! A whistle, the whistle of a steam engine reached his non-existent ears. Thomas thought for a moment this was silly. The only engine on Anopha was a diesel named Mavis, as Toby had discovered. But then Thomas heard the whistle again.

"D'you hear that?" He asked aloud.

"Hear what?" Ivo replied, poking his head out of Thomas's cab.

"I hear a steam whistle!" Thomas replied. "I think I hear a steam whistle, coming off of Mt. Anopha!"

"Oh that's just Mavis." Toby replied.

Ivo looked at Toby confusedly. "Mavis? You mean the quarry diesel?"

"Yes exactly!"

"...a diesel is blowing a steam whistle?" Thomas asked sarcastically.

Toby looked down at the track in sudden realization, and the whistle was heard once more. "Whatever could that be?" Toby asked, Ivo moving from Thomas to him. "There's no other engines in the quarry, and I don't know of a line beyond it!"

"Well, I don't know either," Ivo began. "But perhaps your driver would Toby, isn't he an old Sudrian? He might know of things on the Island even locals wouldn't!"

"Crovan, he might!" Toby agreed, shivering as his fire became hotter and hotter. "Ah that feels good, thank you Ivo."

A car honked and approached the shed and, like he'd heard them speak of him, Crovan Alderich stepped out of it. "'Allo and good morning!" He called. "How are you this fine day?"

"Just the man we needed!" Thomas laughed. "Crovan, why could we hear a steam whistle off of Anopha just now?"

Crovan looked at the others, and Ivo nodded. Crovan held his hand to his ear and listened, as did the others, but no whistle was heard again. "I have a few theories." Crovan finally replied. "It could be the ghost of Timothy! Or the call of the Lady Engine!"

"Ghost stories and fairy tales are no explanation." Ivo groaned. "We heard a whistle, and there's only a Diesel on that mountain, so what could it really be?"

Crovan looked to the mountain once more, then back to the engines and firelighter. "Most probably, it's a narrow-gauge steam engine." He answered. "The auld Mid-Sodor Railway? The Culdee Fell line? The Skarloey Railway? I'm not sure, nor do I even know if any of those lines still exist! But any of those three could be it, they all were up around these mountains."

"A narrow gauge engine?" Thomas asked. "Another railway on Sodor?"

"Oh sure! There used to be 7!" Crovan laughed. "Sodor and Mainland line, Tidmouth Knapford and Elsbridge Railway, South Sodor Railway, Mid Sodor Railway, Culdee Fell Line, Skarloey Railway, and the Arlesdale Railway! The Sodor-Mainland and TK&ER combined to become the NWR, then we enveloped the SSR last year. The Arlesdale Railway was a minimum-gauge railway that didn't last long, and was only a freight line for the Ballast mines anyway. Then the Mid-Sodor, Culdee Fell and Skarloey lines were Narrow gauge with several engines on each. Culdee Fell had a series of accidents and went bankrupt, and the Mid-Sodor railway closed due to the Wars, but I believe that the Skarloey railway may still be running!"

"How far might it run?" Toby asked.

"Well it could be up to Anopha, but I wouldn't know exactly." Crovan sighed. "I could ask Hatt or look into it m'self if you'd like!"

"That'd be very interesting, you do that Crovan!" Ivo said, stepping out of Toby and nearing his car. "Tell me what you find out tomorrow morning, alright? Goodbye!"

Thomas blew his whistle and Toby rang his bell as Ivo left, and the wind changed as they did so. The sounds of their goodbye drifted back across the mountains slope of Anopha, where a little engine named Skarloey heard it. He wondered what engines had made that sound, and if he'd ever meet them, but continued on his work as if nothing had happened.

[]

Back at Knapford Station, Sir Topham Hatt had just sent Percy on his way to his new job, working alongside Thomas and Toby on the Ffarquhar line, and was headed back to his office when Tom Tipper the mailman approached him. "Special letter for you sir!" Tom said, handing over a small, neatly folded letter with Topham's name on it.

"What's this Tom? Last time you brought me a special delivery it was a demand from the LBSC, claiming I stole their engine!" Topham recalled.

"I don't write the mail Sir, I just deliver it!" And with a slight salute and a tip of the hat, Tom walked back to his prized mail van.

Topham took the letter inside and sat down at his desk. The letter was from the head of A. W. Dry and Co, and this excited Hatt. He ripped open the letter to read the approval of partnership, and the sale of lines and engines owned by the company, to the NWR.

This meant that Topham and his railway now had complete and total access to Anopha Quarry and use of Mavis, the right of passage through Brendam Bay, Brendam Docks and into the China Clay pits where twin engines worked, and all the work and help that came with it.

Hatt nearly jumped for joy, but collected himself and rang a bell on his desk. In came the Hatt's butler. "You called for me sah?" he asked.

"Yes, get me Jem Cole and Jeremiah Jobling. We've got some work to do!" He replied. "We got the A. W. Dry partnership! We got it!"


	28. In the shade of Mt Anopha

**Chapter 28:**

After another average yet exciting morning (not the same one), Thomas was puffing with Annie and Clarabel along his branchline. Humming to himself as he passed through Hackenbeck tunnel, he whistled as Camelot, brother bus of Edgar and Bertie, passed by him on the hill road.

He reached Elsbridge in good time, feeling quite proud of himself. Toby and Percy were there, Toby teaching the little engine about the branch line, and Thomas whistled as he pulled in.

"I am, a really useful engine!" He declared, getting the other two engine's attention. "And that's why I'm painted blue! Edward and Gordon are some of the best engines on the island, just like me!"

"That may be," Toby began, "But I doubt the color of your paint affects your usefulness! Why, just think of James!"

"I like my green paint!" Percy responded. "And Heny and Duck are very useful as well, tisnt only the blue engines who are great!"

"Yes well anyway." Thomas was becoming somewhat offended, and was now ready to leave. "I say blue is the only proper color for an engine, so there!" And with that, he puffed away, leaving Percy and Toby laughing behind him.

"To each his own." Toby quietly replied, winning an agreeing wink from Clarabel. "Ah well, good luck today Percy, I'm supposed to go to our newly-bought Quarry now!" And so Toby left with the ding of his bell.

"Well!" Percy laughed. "Alright then, and I'll just attend to your jobs!"

"That is why we were brought to the line!" Neil O'Heart called. "We and Toby will be splitting the jobs now!"

"And building up the Harbour!" Percy added. The Ffarquhar line was about to have a lot more work, as the A. W. Dry deal would grant them consistent work from Anopha Quarry, and construction to expand Knapford Harbour. "There's lots to be done!"

"Then let's be off!" Neil agreed, and he and Percy set off in reverse.

[]

Jabez Croarie, manager of the Quarry, sat in his office above the shed watching work happen. Mavis, his diesel shunter bought a few years back, was arranging cars full of stone for an NWR engine to retrieve. Workers mined busily all around, and Jabez was doing nothing but tossing a rubber ball at a wall repeatedly. He was a working man, who hated merely sitting while work happened, but this was his situation for today, and so he waited.

Till suddenly, he heard the bell of a tram echo through his mountain. He set aside his ball, exited the office, and approached the new tram. An old man stepped off the footplate and stuck his hand out to shake. "M'name's Crovan Aldrich, this is my engine, Toby!" He cheerfully introduced.

"I am Jabez Croarie, manager of this work." He replied. "Your name was Crovan? Are you Sudrian?"

"I was born here, but until last year I lived on the Mainland." Crovan replied.

"Well, 'Born of Sodor, drawn to Sodor.'" Jabez replied. Crovan appeared confused. "That's an old saying of the Norramby family. Often they have a member move away, only to return years later."

"Ah! Well I suppose that's true of me too then!"

Back on the rails, Toby was attempting to talk to the shy Mavis. "Do you enjoy working up here?" The tram asked the diesel.

Mavis looked around, eyeing her non sentient line of cars. "I suppose." She quietly replied. "They aren't mean like some managers, and it's not hard work."

Toby nodded and looked to Crovan and Jabez, who seemed quite comfortable talking. He looked back to Mavis, who was staring at the ground, unsmiling. "That's good. Sir Topham Hatt is a good controller too." He replied.

Mavis seemed confused. "Who?" She asked.

"Sir Topham Hatt!" Toby responded. "Do you not know of the controller of the North Western Railway? The large and benevolent man who keeps the line running on time!" Mavis shook her face. "Ah. I hope you meet him someday then. He'd like you despite you being a diesel!"

"And what do you mean by that?!" She demanded, her whole demeanor suddenly changing. "What's wrong with my being a diesel?!"

"No! Nothing! I just meant-"

"We diesels are the future, tram!" Mavis ranted. "And if your controller has a problem with that, may he eat his namesake hat!"

Toby was speechless! Mavis had gone from a somewhat scared and seemingly shy engine to a highly defensive and racist one! Just as he was ready to snap back at her, Crovan returned.

"C'mon mate, let's get what we came for and get out of here!" He laughed, and waved to Jabez as Toby pulled away from Mavis.

Toby glowered as he pulled out, but Mavis smirked, knowing she'd beaten him. He backed into the trucks and swiftly left the quarry, not bothering to say goodbye.

"What an old fusspot!" Mavis growled to herself. "I've waited three years to meet another engine, three years of hearing whistled and sounds from both sides of the mount, and he turns out to be a right arse!" She sighed, and breathed slowly for a moment before oiling on over to another truck. "What's he mean, 'despite you being a diesel'? What's wrong with that! If Mr Hatt is desperate enough to purchase a tram, he could use a nice, modern engine like me. A female diesel! I'm very useful!"

She pondered this as she rolled back to her shed and watched, wondering why it was she who was trapped, shunting in Anopha instead of out pulling goods trains on a nice Railway.

[]

Far from Anopha Quarry, waiting on Vicarstown, was James the red engine. As he sat at the platform, waiting for his goods to be taken away by a mainland diesel, he spied Sir Topham Hatt sitting on a bench, waiting for Gordon's Express run. " Hallo sir!" He called to the fat controller.

"Hm?" Topham looked up. "Oh! Hello James!"

"What are you doing here in Vicarstown? James asked. "Your office is in Knapford, and I know your wife is at Crosby, so you aren't here for her again!"

"I was working on plans with a partner for the expansion of Knapford Harbour!" Topham began. " I was looking to rent some lorries and…" He stopped, and looked at James curiously. "Hang on. Why do you know where my wife is?"

James laughed heartily. " No no no sir, not like that!" James giggled. "I dropped her off there this morning along with Mrs. Cole and young Miss Kyndley!" James snorted as Topham sighed in relief. "So, you intended to buy lorries for the Harbour?"

"Yes but I'm afraid the deal couldn't work, and now I'm left without motor vehicles excepting an old tow truck named Butch, who happens to be sentient!" Hatt replied.

"If you need another motor vehicle, why not borrow Trevor?" James suggested. "I spoke to him just the other day, and he implied he doesn't have enough to do at the Vicarage."

"Is that so?" Hatt exclaimed. "Rev. Laxley is an old teacher of mine, perhaps if he's willing…?" Topham pondered this, just as Geoffrey Black returned from the lavatory.

"Hullo sir!" He nodded to his employer

"You be nice to James today Geoffrey." Hatt laughed. "He's smarter than he lets on!"

"Be nice to him?!" Geoffrey shouted with a chuckle "Is that a requirement?"

"Oh it is now!" James snootily replied, smirking as the fat controller walked off, still curious of the red engine's shockingly wise suggestion.

[]

"Eeeewwww-wee!" Percy moaned. "What is this horrible, nasty, smelly pile of garbage?!" He demanded, indicating a truck he was pulling from off the quay-side.

"Exactly that." The dock manager replied. "It's a truck of waste due for the dump area down by Crovan's Gate and Norramby. Gordon will take it later today."

"Gordon?" Percy laughed, stopping suddenly. "Surely you mean Henry! Gordon doesn't take cars, but Henry does!"

"I mean the blue engine with a number four and a bad attitude!" The dock manager snapped in response. "That's Gordon, right?"

"Yes sir-ee!" Neil laughed from Percy's cab.

"Then shut up about which engine does what job and move the smelly truck to the siding!" the manager angrily declared. "We've got to get all of these trucks away from this part of the yard in order to build this area up!"

Percy scampered backward with the waste truck and set it in its designated siding, then moved over to where the Flying Kipper sat, waiting for the night of it's departure. He pulled the Kipper away and then looked over to see Thomas and Terence talking just across the way.

Percy peeped his whistle and got their attention. "Hello!" He called.

"Good afternoon Percy!" Terence replied. "I like your green paint, it sparkles in the noon-day sun!"

"Why thank you Terence!" Percy laughed, immediately understanding the diss on Thomas. "It's a much better sheen than some silly blue engines that I know!"

"Oh puh-leeze!" Thomas sputtered. "Blue is the only proper color for a tank engine on this line! And to you Terence, you're picking a fight that won't be won!"

"Not won by you anyway!" Terence laughed, and then trundled off the quay and back towards Dryaw.

"Cheeky little tractor!" Thomas said, rolling his eyes. He then looked back at Percy. "And just what are you doing Percy?"

Percy had now rolled up beside Thomas with a line of cars. Above Percy and beside Thomas was a coal hopper, which was preparing to fill Percy's cars. "Just filling these cars so you can tug them away!"

Coal tumbled out of the hopper, and a slightly odd smell told Thomas that this was some of the old Welsh coal, bought for Henry before his re-shape. "Careful with those buffers behind you Percy." Thomas warned. "That's expensive coal, and you have a bad habit of overrunning buffers!"

"I ran over them once!" Percy retorted, and then ran through the old buffers behind him. "...oh bother!"

Thomas laughed hysterically, only to then be suddenly covered in coal. The hopper had been activated without a car beneath it, and the black dust covered his whole left side, obscuring his wonderful paint and number 1. Just as Thomas spat out a piece of coal from his mouth to reprimand Percy, the hopper broke, and the whole load spewed forth from it, covering Thomas in further coal, coal dust, and indignity.

"MM-mMmmm-M!" Thomas screamed, but his mouth had been covered in Welsh Coal, and he couldn't be understood.

Bob Hardy kicked coal from the cab and disembarked on the open right side, and laughed as he looked at his engine. "Godred Crovan!" He exclaimed. "We'd best clean you up before your next train!"

Thomas's answer was drowned in coal, and Percy was pushed back onto the tracks by a returning Terence. "What in Godred's name!?" Terence exclaimed. "I leave for about five minutes and this happens?!"

"Not so smart blue now, eh Thomas?" Percy chuckled, pushing his cars of coal away from the hopper, laughing all the way.

"I'll get you out Mate, just like always." Terence laughed, pushing coal out from around the tank engine's chassis.

Thomas just sat, dark in color and in thought, as he planned a revenge against the silly Caterpillar engine. Percy had just, however inadvertently, just begun a prank war. And Thomas, oh Thomas, he planned to win.


	29. The Fete

_(As a forewarning, this chapter is going to be very different, leaning heavier into the human side of the story, rather than just the usual adaptations of stories about the Engines. It does have elements straight from the stories, but it's more original than adaptation. You'll soon see what I mean._

_And out of curiosity, do you readers like the human side of my story? Is it better by adding the element of other characters that aren't the sentinet trains, but real people? I hope you do, cuz I enjoy writing it!_

_Anyway, I hope you enjoy the story! -HunterCreeper712)_

**Chapter 29:**

In the month of June, Wellsworth is a busy town. One of the town's greatest celebrations, barring Christmas, is the Vicar's Fete. Every year in June, though never on the same date, Reverend Charles Laxley hosts a variety of games, rides and entertainment in his Vicarage in order to raise money for the church. The people of Wellsworth spend the weeks prior collecting things to sell at a big auction and children save their money for rides and sweets. In years past, a Carousel and Ferris wheel had been rented, Terence borrowed for short rides, and Sir Topham Hatt once even rounded up a marching band to perform! But this year, things were calmer, but the town was just as excited for the celebration.

Trevor the Traction Engine was excited too. Jem Cole was currently building him a hay wagon, in which people could pay to ride on around the Fete. He hummed happily as he passed by the Bee hives, pulling a wagon of supplies across the Orchard. He found himself recalling days long past when children would ride on him as he worked, his owner's children and their friends playing around him as he sat in waiting, and talking to people as the Economic Downfall in the 30's left them on the streets.

"Trevor!" Called a friendly voice from the tracks, snapping Trevor out of his memory. The old tractor looked up to see Edward waiting for him at the fence. Trevor rolled over to his saviour and tooted his whistle. "Is the Vicar working you hard Old Boy?" Edward asked.

"I'm working harder, yes." Trevor replied. "Still, when the Fete is over it'll all be boring around here again. I'm not ungrateful for the work, but I wish I could be doing more, if you know what I mean."

"I understand that." Edward agreed. "For a few years I was barely used as a shunter, but the Fat Controller helped me find joy in the work I had."

"The Fat Controller?" Trevor asked. "Isn't that rude to call Sir Hatt by such a name?"

Edward chuckled. "I suppose so, but it's what the bigger engines and Duck have begun calling him, and it's sort of rubbed off on me!" A conductor's whistle blew, and Edward blew his in reply. "I'm afraid I can't dawdle today friend. I'm off to Vicarstown with a load from the new Brendam Docks!"

"Goodbye!" Called Trevor as Edward puffed off, and he sighed.

The Brakevan on the train mockingly sighed in response, then laughed rudely. "Who'r'ou to complain?!" it gruffly shouted, disappearing down the line as Edward puffed away.

"I'm Trevor." Trevor declared. "I'm a hardworking tractor of the Vicarage Orchard, aren't I?" He rolled back into the orchard, pulling his supplies along dutifully, but found himself pondering his own question.

He was the tractor of the Orchard, but was he hardworking? Was the work hard enough to say he was hardworking? Or was he, in reality, hardly working? If only he had someone to ask. Jem Cole was a nice driver, but didn't speak much, so having a conversation was hard with him. A child would be nice and listen to Trevor's problems, right? Children love sentient vehicles!

"...I like children." Trevor quietly sighed.

[]

The day of the Fete came, and it was a busy day! Wellsworth Station was flooded with visitors, the auction sold well, and everything was good for the Vicar.

"Easy on the drink, alright Neil?" Laughed Sidney Heaver. Drivers of Percy and Edward walked through the food vendor booths, each hungry for a nice meal. The sun was beginning to set, and both drivers had been let off early to visit the Fete.

"But I'm so thirsty!" Neil O'Heart replied. "I'll just have a couple drinks!"

"Any is too many in my book." Remarked old Mrs. Kyndley, walking behind them with her daughter, Chloe. "How are you Sidney, Neil?"

"Good evening Mrs. Kyndley!" Sidney tipped his hat to her. "And Ms. Kyndley." He added, nodding to Chloe.

"We were off to join Bob Hardy and Jeremiah Jobling over at the pavilion, once we get our food, care to join us?" Neil offered.

"We've got nothing else to do, why not mother?" Chloe asked.

So Neil and Sidney quickly bought themselves some Sandwiches and three beers at an M C BUNN stand and led the Kyndleys over to a small, covered pavilion that Jem Cole had built near the road, designated for eating from the vendors. Bob Hardy and Jeremiah Jobling sat near the end of the pavilion as promised, but along with Charlie Sand (Gordon's driver), Mrs. Sand, and Darcy Sand. "I see you found company!" Sidney remarked as they approached their friends. "We've brought guests too!"

"Mrs. Kydley!" Bob exclaimed, standing up from the table. "What a surprise." Bob's face suddenly went red as James when he saw Chloe, but he collected himself and stuttered: "A-a-a who-who's this you've b-brought?"

"Bob, this is my daughter, Chloe." Mrs. Kyndley introduced.

"Hello!" Chloe waved shyly, as Bob was dumbstruck by her. She was certainly pretty, blonde and tall with a face that resembled her mother's, kind and gentle.

"Aha-a won't you sit down?" Bob offered the Kyndleys the seat beside him.

Sidney sat down between Jobling and Charlie Sand, but Neil was left standing now that the table was full. "Where do I sit?" He whined.

"Ah just stand ya' whiner." Darcy snipped. She seemed distracted and was searching the crowds, looking for someone special. "Has anyone seen Ivo?" she asked.

"No, you're not running off with that boy tonight!" Charlie growled. "You're going to sit here and enjoy the time you have with your family and our friends."

"You did let the boys run off." Mrs. Sand said, looking at her husband.

"That's because they'd saved up their money and wanted to ride the tractor." Charlie replied, taking a drink. "Besides, they're boys! I'm not worried about them getting lost or-"

"Or what?" Sidney cut in. "Going off and falling in Love?"

"Let the girl off already, Charlie!" Jeremiah Jobling laughed. "She's head over heels for that firelighter and I think that's perfectly fine!"

"I'm not worried about Ivo!" Charlie snapped, obviously feeling under attack. "I'm worried about… about-"

"About nothing Charlie." Mrs. Kyndley finished. "Here, Chloe, why don't you go with her, just so Mr. Sand is more comfortable with it."

"Oh?" Chloe suddenly looked up. She'd been talking quietly with Bob for a moment, and looked now to Darcy, who was pleading with her eyes for an opportunity to escape and find Ivo. "Oh, uh, yes mother!"

"That's good, isn't it dear?" Mrs. Sand asked, petting Charlie's arm. He only grunted and proceeded to eat a large slice of chocolate cake.

"Come along Chloe!" Darcy jumped up excitedly, hugging her father and reaching for Chloe to follow. The two girls walked off into the celebration, with Bob Hardy watching as they disappeared into the crowd.

"You aren't eyeing my daughter too, now are you Bob?" Charlie glowered through a mouthful of cake.

"Hm?" Bob looked up.

Jeremiah, Mrs. Sand, and Mrs. Kyndley began laughing. "Oh you paranoid old man!" Jeremiah laughed.

"He's clearly eyeing my Chloe." Mrs. Kyndley giggled. "And I have no trouble with that! Go on Bob, follow them!"

"What? No! I'm not eyeing anyone!" Bob denied, blushing awfully and trying to hide it by pretending to wipe his face with a napkin.

"Yes you are!" Sidney rolled his eyes. "Go after her!"

"Yes!" Charlie suddenly agreed. "Go after them and make sure they stay as far away from Ivo Hugh as possible!"

Mrs. Sand flicked her husband's nose, which he rubbed emphatically. Bob looked around the table at the annoyed faces and finally stood up and walked, nearly ran, after Darcy and Chloe. "My my, Chloe's too strong willed to let me help find her a good man, and I feared for a time that I may die before my youngest was married!"

"Woah Mrs. Kyndley!" Jeremiah Jobling laughed. "Bob's not proposed yet! I think you'd better think a little smaller for the time, they've only just met!"

"Oh can't an old woman dream?" Mrs. Kyndley laughed, then stole a bite of Bob's forgotten food. "Mm. This is good."

"Enjoying yourselves?" Boomed a powerful and loud voice that snapped every railway worker to attention. Sidney, Charlie and Jeremiah stood suddenly and turned to see… a clown. "Haha! How are you boys?"

"Sir- Sir Topham Hatt?" Jeremiah Jobling questioned. The man standing before them appeared to be Hatt himself in a jovial clown costume, but his face seemed misleading. "What are you doing dressed like that?!"

"Raising money for the Vicar of course!" The clown laughed. "Where's your young son Chuck?" He asked, holding a coin jar at Charlie Sand.

"Ah-ah-ah!" Sidney shook his head and pushed away the coin jar. "Topham would never dress this way, and the nicknames have given you away again, Lowham!"

"Eh?" Lowham gasped. "It's not- i'm not- No! I'm Topham!"

"Are you really?" asked Mrs. Kyndley, standing from the table now. The clown gasped, dropped the coin jar, and ran off back into the crowds. Everyone laughed. "That's Lowham alright. Silly boy was always afraid of me, but Topham never was. I knew I could solve that old trick!"

Jeremiah took the jar from the ground. "I'll bet he wasn't going to donate this at the end of the day." He said, shaking the coin jar, which sounded quite full.

"Where is he?!" Demanded another booming voice, pushing through the Pavilion. "Where's my brother?!"

"He's just run that-a-ways Sir!" Charlie directed Sir Topham Hatt.

"Ah, so he's been here?" Hatt asked, scooting past Mrs. Sand. "I'll take those coins and donate them honestly now. Where did you say he went?"

Sidney handed the jar over and pointed back through the crowd, and Topham went storming through. "Now that was Topham." Mrs. Kyndley laughed.

[]

An hour or so later, as the darkness set in and fireworks boomed overhead, Topham was dragging Lowham to the Laxley Home, where the vicar was waiting.

"OI! I said I was sorry! Ow!" Lowham grunted and shouted. Though he'd never been a fighter, Topham was stronger than his twin, and was shoving Lowham along the pathway out of the Fete.

They passed the Carousel where Darcy Sand and Ivo Hugh sat together on a wooden horse, and Bob Hardy and Chloe Kyndley rode a large fake bull, both couples talking and laughing as they spun round and round. Charlie Sand and Mrs. Kyndley were looking on, both with distinctly different views of the situation. Charlie was wringing his hands in anger, while Mrs. Kyndley was dreamy-eyed and smiling, probably reminiscing her younger days with her late husband.

"Aren't they swe- AUGH!" Lowham cried out as Topham tugged him by his bright green overalls. "I'm coming!"

Topham knocked solidly on the Vicarage door, and Charles opened it, having been waiting the whole time. "Well done Topham, so you caught the swindler after all!" He said.

"I- I apologize." Lowham sighed, bowing his head. "I've already put all the money I collected- OI!" Topham stepped on his leg. "...Stole, in your collection boxes. I'm sorry. Can I go now?"

Rev. Laxley nodded, and Topham released his brother, who scampered off quickly away from the Vicarage. "Sorry about all that, your reverence." Topham apologized. "If I'd known my brother was on the island I would have sent for someone to watch him!"

"All is well now Topham, thank you." The vicar nodded. "Goodnight."

He began to close the door, but Topham grabbed it. "Actually, please, if I could speak to you about something?" he asked, holding the door from the Vicar.

The Vicar opened his door again. "Yes?"

Topham removed his hat respectfully. "I have a request i'd like to make of you, regarding Trevor." Hatt began. "Rumor among my engines is that the poor tractor feels under-used, and wishes to- to do more work! I have need in Knapford Harbour for a strong tractor like him, and I'd like to, perhaps, rent him for a few weeks?"

Reverend Laxley looked at the sky and thought it over, then he stepped out. Without a word, he motioned for Topham to follow him around the house. Passing back around the edge of the Fete, which was beginning to quiet to a close, the Vicar and Topham stopped at a makeshift station. This had been used all day by Trevor to load and unload riders from his hay-cart ride, and was just pulling toward his station as the two men stepped onto the platform.

"Hello Reverend, and Sir!" Trevor called. Jem Cole tipped his hat at them as they stopped.

"Trevor, would you like to work at the Harbour?" Rev. Charles asked.

Trevor seemed surprised! "Would I!" He laughed. "Of course I would! Harbour work would be a lovely change of pace!" He suddenly shook his head. "No! I mean, I love the vicarage!" He sighed and looked down, conflicted.

"I understand your plight Trevor." The Vicar kindly sighed, and approached Trevor's face. "If you'd like to do other work, I'm happy to send you out to the Harbour, to the docks, I'll send you to the mines if you'd like! But I will always take you back at the Vicarage." He hugged Trevor's face, and Trevor smiled wide.

"Then yes, I want to work at the Harbour!" Trevor announced. Hatt smiled and Jem Cole stepped down to shake his hand.

"No need for that, old friend!" Topham hugged Jem Cole.

Trevor was confused. "Do they know each other well?" He asked.

"Oh very well." The Vicar confirmed. "These two were schoolmates so long ago. Part of Mrs. Kyndley's class, my Sunday school, and apprentices of the railway. I recall much about their childhood." Reverend Laxley smiled, recalling days long ago. Days when the children got along so well. From different pasts, different countries, and different futures, he'd never forget that class. The Hatt twins, Jem, Burnett, Pete, Tasha, Sidney… so long ago, so much different.

Trevor tooted his whistle as Jem Cole boarded him again, a new cartload of passengers ready to go round the Fete, and the Vicar and Topham watched him roll away. "I haven't seen you two hug in so long." Rev. Charles sighed.

"Not since P.T.'s funeral." Topham sighed. "Last time I saw Burnett and Tasha too, I wonder where they are." He stared off into the distance, his mind in memory as well.

"Well, no use in just standing here." the Vicar suddenly said. "Come along Topham, let's make sure Lowham hasn't gone back to swindling the guests!"

[]

_Far away, in America, Burnett Stone sat at a desk in his empty house. He too was recalling long lost days. Holding a picture from their graduation, he was looking over his old classmates and wondering where the time had gone. From a nearby mountain, a train whistle blew, and he looked out the window at the peak. "I hear you. But I can't." He quietly sighed, then set the picture back on the desk._

[]

Crovan Alderich was riding on Trevor's hay wagon as he passed by the other end of the Vicarage. There, he found Bob Hardy and the two Kyndleys preparing to leave in the Kyndley's car. "Hello!" He called out, and hopped off the wagon. His leg shot with pain, but he shook it off and approached his co-worker and friends.

"Hello Crovan." Mrs. Kyndley smiled. "Did that hurt? Jumping from the wagon?"

"Only a little." Crovan replied, then he looked at Chloe and Bob, who were talking very happily with each other on the other side of the car. "Well I'll be! Do my eyes deceive me?"

"Oh no." Mrs. Kyndley laughed. "These two have been getting very acquainted today!" They looked back as Bob and Chloe laughed loudly, then leaned a little closer to each other. "A match made in heaven I say! But that's them, what's new with you, Crovan?"

"Not a thing!" Toby's driver laughed. "I pass by your house every day, what do you expect from me?"

"Oh a question or two perhaps. Toby's not giving you any trouble?"

Something suddenly clicked in Crovan's brain. "Mrs. Kyndley, do you travel all over the island?" He asked.

"What an odd question, but yes! Yes I enjoy travelling!"

Crovan smacked Bob's arm and got his attention. "Oi!" Bob shouted. "Oh, hullo Crovan."

"Mrs. Kyndley, do you know if there's another railway on Sodor?" Crovan asked, and Bob became very interested, much to Chloe's confusion.

Mrs. Kyndley tilted her head. "You mean, perhaps, the whistles over Mt. Anopha?"

"Yes exactly that!" Bob exclaimed. Every morning and evening Thomas and I hear the sounds over the mountains, what are they?"

"The Skarloey Railway." Chloe replied.

"Indeed, the Skarloey Railway still runs 'round Culdee Fells and the Skarloey!" Mrs. Kyndley confirmed.

"Wait, what was that? Skarloey runs around Skarloey and Culdee?" Bob asked, confused.

"Skarloey means 'lake in the woods' in Sudric, sorry if you misunderstood that." Mrs. Kyndley explained. "Culdee means 'companion of God', Fell means 'Mountain', and Culdee Fells is the mountain range along North-east Sodor."

"Did you not know that Bob?" Chloe laughed. "You, who has lived on Sodor your entire life?"

Bob didn't respond, but Crovan and Chloe laughed.

"Good, I guess I'll have to venture over there one of these days and see the line for myself." Crovan decided.

"The engines there are sentient too!" Chloe informed them. "If you and Bob would like to come with us for a picnic?"

Bob blushed, and Crovan and Mrs. Kyndley laughed.

[]

[]

_Heh heh heh. So did you catch everything i hid there? This story is laying a lot of groundwork for bigger stories, some coming sooner than later!_

_It also occurs to me, this story seemed to interrupt the story somewhat, didn't it? Here's an idea, I start a separate companion story here on FanFiction that is the human side of the story, and leave this one more trains-focused? Or should I just leave it like this was. I'm having a debate. I'll let you know what I decide._

_This also went kind of long, didn't it? Is it better to write longer stories and get more out in a single chapter, or go with the episodic and short stories like Thomas has always been?_

_Gosh, i'm having a lot of self-doubt about this story suddenly. Woof, alright. I'll just keep going till I get a complaint!_

_-HC712_


	30. The Idiots of Ffarquhar

**Chapter 30:**

June 5th, 1963. It was the day after the Fete, and the engines were hardly affected. The workmen and drivers, however, were an altogether different situation. A simple example of this was Ffarquhar sheds that morning, where Thomas, Percy and Toby sat waiting on their drivers while Ivo Hugh warmed them up for the day.

"So, was the Fete any good?" Toby asked, the first awake as always.

"The Fete was wonderful!" Ivo laughed, his eyes reminiscing the night. "Darcy and I had a grand time, riding old Trevor was a nice break, but she loved the Carousel, and I just kept buying her the tickets!"

"Sounds like she's out for your money." Percy yawned. "Not your love."

"Oh funny, Percy." Ivo snapped. "If you'd like some bad relationship stories, you'd best be talking to your own driver. Rumour is that he got drunk and slept around all night!"

"Slept around?!" Thomas gasped, waking up with unfortunate timing. "Does that mean what I think it means?! Neil did that!?"

"Oh I've heard." Percy grumbled. "Neil is a chatterbox if he wants to be, and I know of his… habits." He said the word hesitantly, like it was a disease or a curse.

A car beeped, and up the hillside came the trio of drivers in Bob's white car. Funnily enough, it was Crovan driving, as Neil seemed to be having a hangover and Bob was daydreaming out the window. "That reminds me." Ivo added. "You want bad love? Ask Neil. But if you want a good romance tale, ask Bob." And with that, he walked to his car and drove away.

"Good morning all!" Thomas called out to the Drivers. "How was the Fete?"

"I had a good time!" Crovan laughed. "And I found out, the Skarloey Railway is still running on the other side of Anopha!"

"Wonderful." Bob moaned, like he was a zombie. A very happy zombie.

"Wha? Wha'd'ou want wi'f me feet?" Neil demanded, barely cohesive.

It was going to be a strange day, to say the least.

[]

Percy was waiting at Dryaw later that day, waiting on Neil to come out of his third bathroom in the past two hours. Now, beside the station was a small airfield. Usually there were only a few planes that would land and take off every now and then, but today there was something, some_one_, else. A sentient Helicopter sat near the platform. He was a brilliant white colour with red decal, and his face was like a coach's, like it was moulded into its body, rather than like a bus or engine's, a gray mass of skin on the front of their body.

"'Allo chappy!" He said in a cool and cheerful voice. "'As your driver had too much t' drink?" He asked.

Percy looked back at the station, where Neil was heard groaning through a window. "You could say that." He mumbled. "Had a lot of fun at the Fete, I think."

"Ah the Fete was gorgeous, wasn't it?" The helicopter said. "'ah flew around, keeping an eye on the celebrators in case of any trouble! I'm a search-'n-rescue 'elicopter after all!"

"Oh really?" Percy replied, uninterested.

"I'm 'arold!" Harold declared. "Tha' starts with an 'H', forgive me accent."

"Well then!" Percy rolled his eyes. "I'm Percy. I'm a really useful engine, and I pull important goods and passengers up and down-"

"Pardon me." Harold interrupted, "But 'ow can you be really useful if ya' run on rails? Tha' railway is slow and out of date! Meanwhile 'ah can go anywhere 'ah want! My great arms c'n take me an'wheres as 'ah 'over through the skies! Don'cha wish ya' could 'over like me? Tha' starts with an 'H', forgive me accent."

"No, I don't want to Hover!" Percy snapped. "I like my rails an-" But Percy was cut off as Harold's arms began spinning rapidly, and Harold began to hover away.

"Bother tha' stupid thing." Neil grumbled, finally making his way out of the bathroom back to his engine.

"While you may be drunk, I still agree." Percy fumed. "Call me out of date, call me slow? Pah!" And with that he puffed away along the line.

[]

Meanwhile, Thomas too was annoyed at his situation. While Bob Hardy had only one thing, one person, on his mind, Thomas was taking Annie and Clarabel back to Knapford Yards, his last stop for the train. "Why aren't I taking the noon-day train today?" Thomas asked Bob. Really, he knew perfectly well why, but he wanted Bob to stop ranting and say something else, anything else!

"Right, see, we're taking a tractor to the Harbour to help the work." Hardy replied. "Trevor, I believe."

"Who's Trevor?" Thomas asked as they pulled into the station.

"Trevor's a kind old Tractor that Edward saved." Duck explained, rolling up beside the blue tank engine. "He works on the Wellsworth Vicarage near the tracks. James and Edward tell that he's been feeling underworked and wanted a change of pace, so Hatt and Rev. Laxley made a deal to put Trevor to work in Knapford."

"Yes exactly." Bob agreed. "I remember the tractor from last night! He was pulling a hay cart ride and Chloe and I-" But Thomas blocked him out now, knowing that any sentence starting with 'Chloe and I' was one he didn't care to hear.

"Be nice to my coaches, Great Western!" Thomas called back. "I'm off!" And he was. Duck pulled Annie and Clarabel from the platform as Thomas chugged up the main line to fetch his load.

A short time later, he arrived at the side-line that sat beside the Vicarage. Usually used for an engine with a goods train pulling away the Vicar's fruit, Thomas pulled up to a line of three cars and a flatbed. The cars had assorted building materials and tools, and the flatbed held the tractor he'd come for, and Edward sat on the other end, talking to Trevor.

"Hello Thomas!" Edward called. "Here's the Harbour load, straight from the Brendam construction site!"

"Thank you Edward!" Thomas responded. "Is that connection line finished yet?" He was referring to the connection between the NWR's side of Brendam Docks to the Brendam Bay line. Formerly owned by A. W. Dry and Co, the NWR had bought the Brendam Bay line and needed a rail connection to it, thus construction had begun to unify the tracks on the Brendam region of the island.

"Yes!" Edward excitedly replied. "I'm headed down there now to properly meet the engines! I've seen them before and taken loads from them at Brendam Station, but never really spoken to them or learned their names!"

"Well I hope you enjoy yourself Edward." Trevor spoke up. "Thomas, can you take me to the Harbour now? I'm excited to work there!"

"Right, that's what I'm here for." Thomas nodded. Edward blew his whistle and pulled away while Jem Cole hooked up the train to Thomas and set off.

As Thomas chugged up the junction that led to his branch line, Trevor spoke up. "I'm so glad Sir Topham has need of me in the Harbour!" He exclaimed.

A helicopter whirred overhead, and Thomas half wondered if it was new or if he'd just never noticed it before. Trevor continued: "I do love the work I do on the Vicar's orchard, but I'm just in need of some new surroundings, you know?"

"Good, Good." Thomas nodded without any real attention. He was tired of being talked to today.

But Bob hadn't gotten the hint. "As long as you're ignoring Trevor," Bob whispered. "Perhaps you can help me. See, as she left last night, Chloe invited Crovan and I-"

Thomas quickly moved his attention to the tractor on his flatbed. "So Trevor, what's it like, being a Tractor and all?" He asked. Bob snarled and went to shoveling coal into Thomas' fire. He wished Jem Cole had stayed in Thomas' Cab rather than escaped to the brakevan.

"It's hard work being me." Trevor replied. "Not only am I so very good at doing things any old tractor can, but, being an old and alive one, I'm told I'm quite the therapist!"

"Therapist?" Thomas was puzzled. "You mean, you help people with their troubles? Give them advice when they need it and so on?"

"Yes exactly!" Trevor laughed. "Children love me too!"

"So…." Bob began, leaning out of Thomas' cab. "If a fellow like me needed some advice with a nice girl he's mad for, you could get him a good word?"

"Ah, young love!" Trevor sighed. "What's a lad like yourself need advice for? You're strong, a gentleman, and you've got a steady job!" Bob blushed at this, Thomas rolled his eyes annoyedly. "What could you possibly need?"

Thomas blocked them both out now. He'd become very good at that over the course of the day. As he neared the Harbour, Percy whistled and whooshed by him at top speed, with the Helicopter following just overhead. Thomas was genuinely confused. Was the Helicopter something new or was he just too busy to have noticed it before?

A crash in the harbour told him there was trouble. He puffed in quickly, and stopped just as fast. Across the track there lay an overturned flatbed, with it's contents strewn about. Trevor looked around, and laughed at the sight. "I do love a good challenge!"

"What on Earth caused all this?!" Bob exclaimed, stepping out of Thomas' cab.

Thomas then caught sight of Percy, who sitting between a fallen signal box and several stray cars, all off the tracks in odd ways, and Neil O'Heart was singing atop his cab. Percy, who had clearly been hit in the head, was enjoying the song, smiling despite his wheels being every wrong direction.

"AAAAAAAND! We bea' th' 'elicop'er on ar' ol' branch line!" Neil finished, then hiccuped and fell off the roof of the Caterpillar engine, who laughed hysterically. Then the Helicopter landed on the mess of a yard.

"I win! I win!" Percy maniacally chanted. "Who's the slow and out-of-date one now!?"

"Goodness me!" He exclaimed. "'ah knew we wa' 'aving a race, but 'ah d'nt th'nk this'd come of ih'!" He looked over to Thomas, and beamed. "Sorry 'bout tha! 'm 'arold! Tha' starts with an 'H', forgive me accent."

"G'd afternoon Harold." growled Thomas, who had had quite enough of the day and was planning on heading straight to Ffarquhar sheds now, and not coming out till tomorrow.

[]

And speaking of Tomorrows, in the early hours of the next morning, a ship pulled into another port on Sodor. It wasn't Knapford Harbor as it planned, as that was in complete disarray, and it wasn't Brendam Docks either. It was a little shipyard in South-East Sodor, beside the town of Norramby. The NWR had yet to lay tracks there, but there were smaller, Narrow-gauge tracks leading down through Crovan's Gate, temporarily put up there for the night, and they fed into the works. The ship had an engine aboard, an Engine Doctor, who had come to Sodor to help the workmen in Crovan's Gate. He'd journeyed a long and difficult way to Sodor, but he was ready to help the engines on the island regardless. As he was unloaded, there was a mishap. He fell into the sea, dropped by the careless crane on the quay. The crane quickly corrected the mistake, and all the workers on the dock ran to clean and help the engine out.

"¡Bondad! ¡Qué sorpresa!" He exclaimed as he was set on the shoddy rails. "Pero fue refrescante, así que no estoy loco."

A workman hopped aboard him and drove him to the works, as workers in lorries took up the rails behind them. The engine was a saddle-tank from Cuba, sent to Sodor after a few years working in the works of Crewe. He was bright yellow and, despite the years living in England, still spoke his native language, though he was working on learning English while on breaks.

The works was a nice place, a few sheds clumped together just off the station, which was on the far side of the town of Crovan's Gate. The works was equipped to handle engines from both the NWR and the hidden Skarloey Railway. The rails the workers had just used to bring the new engine in were the same they'd connect to the Skarloey railway whenever one of their engines broke down, and were always temporary.

Sir Topham Hatt was waiting at the works as the new engine arrived. "Good to meet you at last!" He boomed, and shook hands with some of the workmen in gratitude. "Henry told me about you Doctors in Crewe and I realized you were perfect for our railway! Now! What is your name?"

The engine was confused. "Name?" He asked, not understanding the word.

"Oh dear, you don't speak english… I forgot." Hatt sighed. He then settled to try and teach this engine the meaning of the word 'Name', like an actor on a children's television show. He pointed to himself. "Sir Hatt!" He said. "My name is Sir Topham Hatt!" He grabbed a random workman and pointed to him. "Alfred! His name is Alfred!"

"Hatt, Alfred… Name." The engine repeated. "Mi…" He stuttered parts of his natvie spanish, trying to communicate. "Mi _name_ es Victor." He finally stated, understanding a bit more english at last.

Sir Topham Hatt clapped like a child and freed Alfred, who fell to the ground, wheezing after being squeezed by the Fat Controller. "Well it is nice to meet you, Victor!" He laughed.

[]

[]

_(So about that thing I said a few parts back, where I said I'd be changing some order around? Yea, this is one of the biggest changes I've got. Yes, I just dragged Victor from the CGI era into Season 2, i'm aware. But I have a plan, and this just speeds things along a little more smoothly. I still won't use Victor as a major character until his episodes start appearing, but this at least puts him into the story._

_But wait! I hear you cry. What about his backstory in Blue Mountain Mystery!? What about Luke?! Wait and see, wait and see. Luke is not forgotten. _

_Also, Harold's accent? I love it. I went for a combo of how George Carlin and Micheal Brandon did it, keeping the cool and smooth voice from Carlin and the bold inflections from Brandon. Carlin and Brandon are the narrators of my childhood, I'm American and I didn't watch Alec Baldwin's seasons till later on. _

_Sorry, am I talking out my tender again? I'll wrap this up.)_

_-HC712_

_(PS, if you don't know what I was saying about Neil's night, you probably don't want to. If you did get it, remember that. Neil is a bit of a Perv.)_


	31. Edward Among Commoners

**Chapter 31:**

It was a hot June night, and seven of the eight drivers on the NWR were gathered in their usual refuge, Knapford Tavern. Elaine Peters was downing another massive drink with her feet on the table, while Bob Hardy watched, impressed. Geoffrey Black, Sidney Heaver and Crovan Alderich were staring out the window at a car wreck from moments ago, each enjoying a sandwich as they did, and Ted Brigham and Charlie Sand were discussing their children's problems.

"See, and then there's all the trouble with Darcy." Charlie ranted. "Every time I have any plans to relax with my family at home, she's off with Ivo Hugh!"

"I can't decide if you're genuinely mad about this…" Ted pondered. "...or if you're just defensive of your daughter!" He laughed and took another drink. "Darcy and Ivo may still be young, but they're old enough to start making these kinds of decisions!"

"But that's not all!" Charlie shouted, and apparently having ignored Ted's opinion. "She's gone and planned a picnic in Skarloey, with HIM and without ME!"

"And this is a problem why?" Elaine butted in. "Isn't Bob going on that trip too?"

Bob spluttered and spit out his food. "I-uh… I mean." He stuttered. "Well, Chloe Kyndley invited me and… I mean she and Darcy were going and…." Charlie was staring, somewhat confused and shocked. "Yea, so?" He finally said.

"I think Chuck here isn't a fan of this plan." Elaine blatantly stated.

"Now now!" Ted spread his arms to cool the tension. "That's a good thing! Bob can uh, watch Darcy and Ivo?" Elaine rolled her eyes and took another deep swallow. Charlie looked Bob straight in the eye. Geoffrey, Sidney and Crovan turned back to see the stand-off, and promptly turned back around, knowing the car crash would be far less intense. "Are we settled then?"

"Say wh-where's Neil?" Bob stuttered, attempting to change the subject.

"Yes where is Neil?" Charlie asked, as eager to ignore the situation as Bob was.

"He was here earlier, but took off when that lassie over there walked in." Crovan answered, pointing to a woman at the bar. "D'unno his problem with her, but I didn't ask."

"Oh I have a suspicion." Geoffrey added, annoyedly. "But that's not my concern. Returning to our original subject, how does Darcy and Bob plan on getting to Skarloey?"

"Via the railway of course!" Sidney and Crovan simultaneously answered.

"How do you two know about my daughter's plans?" Charlie glowered.

"They don't, mate." Elaine answered. "I'd have suspected the same thing, considering that's the best way of getting around on this side of the island."

"That's just it!" Geoffrey exclaimed. "My line on the SSR didn't run up there, and I know the NWR doesn't either. James and I have run on every line on this railway, we don't go to the Lake in the Woods!"

All the other drivers looked at each other, then burst laughing, except Elaine who was just as confused as Geoffrey. "The Skarloey Railway does though!" Sidney laughed.

"Skarloey Railway?" Elaine asked. "Is there another railway on Sodor?"

"Indeed!" Boomed an unexpected visitor, sliding through the customers of the bar. "The Skarloey Railway has two engines that run the line perpendicular to ours!"

"Good evening sir!" they all called out. Charlie and Crovan both tipped their hats, and Bob and Ted both stood and offered their seats. Sir Topham Hatt laughed and pulled up a different chair and sat at the end of the table.

"Wait, how have I never heard of this? I've worked on Sodor for years!" Geoffrey demanded.

"It's much less known than our railway, that's for sure." Topham replied. "But it's got a beautiful line and has good traffic, as well as a slate mine that I now own!"

"Wait what?" Sidney gasped. "We own part of the Skarloey Railway!?"

Hatt laughed. "The NWR has always owned a bit in the SR!" He explained. "My Grandfather equipped Crovan's Gate works to help fix their engines, should the need arise!" A waiter brought Topham a glass of water, which he promptly downed in a single gulp. "Anyways, after the deal with A. W. Dry, I now own and plan to expand their biggest provider of goods traffic, and the controller is looking to partner or even combine our lines!"

"I see." Ted nodded. "Henry should like to hear that."

"I'd think my oldest three engines should!" Topham agreed. "Now, I've got to go, just came to bring you the news. I do hate this place."

"This is the second time you've been here this year!" Charlie laughed. "Are you trying to break your record?"

[]

Edward was rudely awoken that morning. While Ivo Hugh had always come 'round to wake him in the morning, today there were two new Engines for him to light the fires of.

"Wakey wakey Grandpa!" Chortled a high-pitched and annoying voice from beside the old Engine.

"Rise and shine, greet the morning!" nagged a second, similar voice from his other side.

Edward opened his tired eyes, wishing he couldn't. Between him sat the two newest engines of the NWR, bought from the Brendam China Clay Pits with the A. W. Dry deal. Twin saddle-tank engines named Bill and Ben, each painted eye-hurting Yellow, and each with a devilish apt for mean pranks. Also the sun was in Edward's eyes. That didn't help his mood either. "Oooohhhh…." Edward groaned, yawning. "Erk, I slept terribly."

"Why Edward! You look unwell!" Ben exclaimed.

"You seem in need of more rest!" Bill agreed.

Edward was confused. He didn't feel well. Were the twins honestly being nice?

"Your eyes are red!" Bill stated.

"Your breathing heavy!" Ben added.

"Your face is saggy!"

"You creak and moan!"

"You're getting wrinkly!"

"You're slow!"

"And all in all-"

"YOU'RE GETTING OLD!" They shouted together in finale. Edward should have known better than to hope with these two.

"Easy easy boys!" Laughed Ivo Hugh, just pulling up for the morning. "Edward might be old, but he's got a lot in him! You should treat your elders with more respect!"

Edward felt better about this, but the twins quickly put that to disgrace too. "Oh, well I apologize, your majesty!" Bill chortled.

"Forgive me negligence, your grace!" Ben added.

"Didn't realize we was in the presence of an ELDER!" Bill sniggered.

Edward ignored them, and steamed away, driver-less, the second Ivo had him ready. He moved into Brendam Yard and arranged his trucks, but he did feel ill. Sidney Heaver found him by the sheds a few moments later, breathing hard and red-faced.

"You alright Eddie?" Sidney asked his engine.

"My boiler aches awfully!" Edward groaned. "And puh-LEEZE don't let the twins hear that nickname, I'd rather they didn't call me that."

It was too late, and a little yellow streak flew past the sheds right then, screeching "Eddie! Eddie! Eddie the Elder!"

"Shite." Sidney grumbled, and climbed aboard Edward.

With a bit of control from Sidney, Edward didn't feel quite as bad, but still hurt and asked to be taken to the Steamworks. So up the branch line they puffed, slowly but surely, till they reached Wellsworth, where Gordon sat with the express.

"Hello old chap!" Gordon called as Edward drew near. "Where are you off to today? The scrapyard?" Gordon chortled at his own joke, but Edward had been dealing with this kind of crap from the Brendam twins all week, and was quite sick of it.

"For your information," Edward began. "I'm headed to the Works, not feeling to well."

"Ah, hope it isn't serious, or you may really be on your way to the scrapyard!" Gordon laughed again, and puffed away quickly. "Express coming through!"

"Yes Gordon." Edward sighed.

Edward struggled on, reaching Crovan's Gate after a long while. As he puffed onto the siding where the works sat. He'd heard that Sir Topham Hatt had bought a new engine doctor to work the yard, but Edward was confused, he saw two engines, and didn't recognize either one.

"Edward?" Asked one. Edward's eyes snapped to one of the sheds and gasped. "Hello boyo!" Said a little engine from the shed. He was a scarlet engine with a big nose, and an elderly and kind face. Edward breathed hard. He hadn't seen this engine in a very long time, and barely knew he was still alive. "What's the matter Edward? You didn't think I was gone, did you? My railway still runs after all, Rheneas took care of that!"

Edward was still shocked. "Sk-Skarloey?" He whispered. "In any other place, I'd ask you how you are, but I suppose you aren't feeling well if you're here."

"Ah, just getting old, I suppose you know how that is." Skarloey laughed. "Anyway, you'd best get in there. Victor, while hard to understand, is a good doctor and does his best. Shame he can't help me right now."

"What's wrong with you, exactly?" Edward asked.

"I haven't any idea, but it hurts to steam." Skarloey replied. "Victor said he could fix it on a standard gauge engine, but he doesn't have the parts for a Narrow gauge yet."

"Well bless me!" Edward laughed. "That's exactly how I feel, what a surprise!"

"Well, you're in luck." Skarloey sighed. "Godred though, what I'd give to be back on my line. I hear my controller's bought two new engines to run the line while me and Rheneas get repairs, and that your controller is going to buy my line."

"I can vouch for that!" Sidney butt in. "Hatt was in the pub last night, telling us drivers about your Railway!"

Skarloey laughed. "Well good then. Guess I'll be seeing more of you soon!" some workmen called to Edward, telling him to enter the work shed. "Go on in boyo, I'm fine. I'll see you soon!"

Edward smiled and rolled past his friend. Godred Crovan, it'd been over 20 years since he'd seen the little engine!

His thoughts were interrupted as a second narrow gauge engine rolled up to him, and he quickly stopped as not to run into it. The engine was a greenish-yellow, and had a large book fastened to his buffer-beam. If Edward had been younger, he might have laughed, but instead he merely raised an eyebrow. "Hello?" Edward asked the engine.

"Eh? Ah!" He looked up and smiled at Edward, who assumed this must be Victor. "Hola! Er... Hel-lo!" He stuttered. "Mi name is Victor! I help you?"

Edward took a moment to understand the broken language, then nodded. "My uh, boiler hurts, it hurts to steam up!"

Victor flicked the pages of his book with a stick in his mouth, then looked back to Edward. "I si." he nodded. "Come co- with mi." He pulled backwards, and Edward noticed now that the tracks were not made of two, but three rails. There was a third rail between the ones holding him up, aligned for a narrow gauge engine to run on the same line. Edward followed Victor into a back shed, and Sidney disembarked to speak to the workmen.

"This'll only take a couple hours Sid." a workmen told his driver, and Edward rolled away with Victor

[]

Feeling much better, he puffed out of the works only two hours later. Stopping once more beside the frontmost shack, he looked at Skarloey, who was currently asleep and sleep-whistling.

"Hope Hatt manages the deal with their controller." Sidney mumbled, looking over the scarlet engine. "Their line's been on rough terrain ever since '43."

"Ugh… don't remind me of '43." Edward groaned. "Alright then. Let's leave old faithful here… but let's not forget him. Gordon and Henry would be very pleased to hear he's still alive."

Edward tooted his whistle and puffed out of the steamworks. Henry pulled out of Crovan's Gate right then, and Edward laughed. If only the big engine knew who he'd just passed by. Only a few tracks over sat an engine who'd give anything to talk to him again. "C'mon, we've got to make sure the twins haven't set fire to the docks!"

Edward laughed and puffed off, feeling much better.


	32. The Fat Controller's Struggles

**Chapter 32:**

While Edward was puffing away to the Steamworks, feeling pain in his boiler, Percy was called to Brendam Docks to work while he was being repaired.

"Here's hoping he doesn't destroy this shipyard." the Fat Controller muttered to himself as he set the Caterpillar engine down the line. Knapford Harbour was still a mess, despite the efforts of Thomas, Trevor, and Terence, and Neil was no longer allowed to drink.

"Come along, come along!" nagged Percy to the line of cars he was dragging behind him, full of coal for the hoppers along the Brendam Line. SCRuffey was among them, and was doing his absolute best to slow Percy. "MOVE!"

"You move!" Chittered a car.

"You're so slow! Why don't you 'come along'?!" Jeered another.

Percy wasn't having it, and he slammed them roughly as he puffed along. When he finally made it to Brendam Docks, his last stop, the trucks were fed up, and were glad to be shoved in the sidings as the clock struck 10.

"Bloody demons…" Percy mumbled.

"Ah, that's a tad hurtful!" Came another voice from nearby.

"Who's there!?" Percy shouted. He could hear the puffing of two engines nearby, but he could only see steam rising over the yard as their voices continued.

"Sure, they cause havoc-"

"Knock engines off the rails-"

"Piss us off to _H. E. Double Hockey Sticks_ and back-

"But really-"

"They're a lot like US!" Screeched a pair of yellow tank engines, jumping out from behind the trucks. Percy jumped slightly as the engines giggled hysterically, and annoyingly, at Percy's shock.

"Who are you?!" Percy cried. "And what are you doing?!"

"That's Bill and Ben." said the Dock manager, approaching the trio of engines. "Pay them no attention, they're insane. You are needed over this way and _they_ are meant to go back to the clay pits!"

Bill and Ben snickered and rolled away, and Percy puffed to the other side of the docks where he had some quick shunting to do.

[]

As Topham stepped out of his car at Knapford Station, he found himself being waited for. Standing directly in front of his locked office door, there was a man in a tall coat and fedora, looking up and down the platform as crowds and trains bustled about. "Is there something I can do for you?" He asked the man, approaching him cautiously.

"Jerry Jingle of the Sodor Times sah!" The reporter introduced himself. "And I'd like to ask you a few questions about ya' railway if ya' don't mind!" Topham tried to splutter out an answer, but the reporter spoke fast, and whipped out a notebook and pen before the Fat Controller could reply. "Is it true, sah, that you've adopted an engine to your railway that was not made in Britain?!"

He stared, like he was on the edge of his seat, waiting for an answer. "Uh, yes." Topham barely had the words out as Mr. Jingle scribbled it down and then snapped his attention back up.

"And it's a Sent'nt one too, 'oo speaks a differ'nt language?!" Jerry demanded.

"Victor is from Cuba, naturally he'd speak Spanish!" Hatt replied with speed, Jerry writing his every word just as fast.

"And how does this make you look, sah?" he asked. "I mean wha's it do for your reputation and the railway's?"

"Excuse me?" Hatt demanded, not understanding

"What I means to say is- If y'er buying a foreign engine, don't it make you appear to not trust the builders of our own country?"

Hatt was startled. "Quite on the contrary! I think it boosts our reputation, adapting a foreign engine! It shows we have diversity on our railway, and don't judge an engine, or a person's, past or race!"

"Is that so?" Jerry replied, with a distrusting look in his eye. "Or was it just tha' cheapest buy?"

"That's out of line!" Hatt snapped.

"Oh really? Let's 'ave a looksy at ya' otha' engines, shall we? We gots the Pro'otype Pacific with a fault f'r hills, a knock-off of the aforementioned engine, an old an' unreliable Furness engine that should'a been scrapped years ago-" Hatt motioned to cut the reporter off, but Jerry Jingle took a step back and continued. "-a stolen tank engine, a lucky inheri'ance of an engine with a bad personali'y, an engine who's been rebuilt so many times 'e don't even know what 'e is, a TRAM, and a quick grab from the GWR." Hatt was fuming, his round face turning red. "Am I wrong sah?"

"Absolutely." Topham growled, enraged but unsure of which engine to defend first.

"Now now, ya' bought tha' few engines from A. W. Dry fair and square, I'll leave 'em be, but y've gotta face th' facts sah! Ya' railway is populated with faulty, cheap engines and a good inspection would shut'cha down good."

"Bull." Sir Topham Hatt growled. "My engines- My engines are very useful, despite their faults or origin."

"Oh there's noth'in wrong with _some_ of ya' engines, but y've got a bad rep on how you obtained them." Jerry Jingle smirked, believing he'd backed Topham into a corner.

"Like who?" Hatt demanded.

"Thomas. Ya' favorite Li''le tank engine tha'cha stole from the LBSCR." Jerry tilted his head tauntingly.

"What makes you believe I stole him?" Topham quietly and deliberately demanded, his face flushing back to its proper colour.

"Well!" Jerry laughed, and flipped a few pages back into his notebook. "I gots meself a few sources, some close t' you, some close t' tha' LBSCR, and even my favorite, Tom Tipper the mailman- or, as I like to call 'im, Tom Tipster!"

"What does Tom know about my business dealings?" Hatt demanded

"Oh nothin' much!" Jerry put up his hands defensively, "Jus' tha' 'e told me, th' same day I discova'd the LBSCR filed a certain tank engine as missin', 'e delivered a lett'a to you marked with the addr'uss of the LBSCR's offices!"

"And?"

"AND, with a bit more proddin' and pokin', I found that the LBSCR had filed a lawsuit agains' a certain sea capt'an 'oo'd left the engine on the wrong island!" Jerry laughed, like he was a true success with this sentence.

Topham had stood for enough of this. He reached out and grabbed the skinny reporter by the scruff of his shirt, and pulled him close, their faces nearly touching. "Now you listen here young man." He snarled, Jerry's face finally showing a hint of fear, but mostly defiance despite Hatt gripping him tightly. "Are you calling me a crook? Are you calling me a liar? A thief?"

At this, Jerry only laughed, and shoved Topham away with surprising strength. Topham stumbled backwards and his hat fell off his head. Jerry doubled over, then picked up Topham's top hat. "List'n 'ere." He finally said, still smirking. "I ain't callin' you anythin'. It's wha' th' public 'll say after they read me report. Now tha's what you should be worryin' yourself about."

And with that, Jerry Jingle turned on his heels and walked briskly away, with Topham left wringing his hat in his hands, muttering Sudric curses and fuming, but completely baffled at what to do.

[]

Back at Brendam, Percy was relaxing in a shed on the Docks. Bill and Ben sat to either side of him, and they were mesmerized as Percy was telling a very interesting story.

"The rain was heavy, and water swirled around my boiler, but I struggled on!" Percy continued. His work was done for the moment, Neil had skipped off for lunch, and the twins were quite bored with attempting to jump or annoy Percy, finding Percy was not one to get easily annoyed!

"What happened next?" Ben asked, not really invested in the story but undeniably curious.

"As I chugged through, I-" Percy was suddenly cut off by a deep whistle from the dock entrance. "Oh bother… who's that?"

"OI!" shouted the voice of Henry from behind the trio of engines. "This shed is for Sir Topham's Engines, move it! This big engine needs some rest!"

"Bossy buffer." "Galloping Sausage." Each twin groaned, rolling away from the shed.

"Actually Henry, they are the Fat Controller's engines now." Percy pointed out as the big green engine pulled up beside him. "We got them in the A. W. Dry deal."

"Oh." Henry said, embarrassed. "Well whatever. What's all the lies you're talking about making it through a rainstorm? You've never even all the way down the main line!"

"Yes I have! Hatty drove me all the way from the shop to Tidmouth when he bought me!" Percy retorted indignantly. "And so what? The twins don't know any better!"

"Oh, so you're so big and bold because you aren't afraid of water?" Henry laughed rolling his eyes. "Percy, you've got a lot to learn, I think, but water is nothing to be afraid of, or to be proud of pushing through!"

Percy laughed heartily, then cleared his throat and looked serious for a minute, before pulling out giggling and chanting: "One an engine attached to a train was afraid of a few drops of rain!"

Henry shook in rage before Ted Brigham stepped out and calmed his angry engine. "It's alright mate!" Ted laughed. "You had that coming, after all!"

"Why won't anyone just let me live that down?" Henry moaned.

Percy, meanwhile, had scampered to where a line of cars was waiting. He pulled them out and shunted them roughly into the tender of the big engine, then rolled back to the yard.

"That's it!" a truck angrily declared.

"He's pushed us around all day!" Another agreed.

"Bumped us, hurt us-"

"Let's get back at him!" screeched their infamous leader, SCRuffey.

Percy hadn't heard anything, and instead rounded up another line of trucks just away from the edge of the water. He looked to the water and noticed a track that led directly into the ocean. Beside it sat a sign that said:

"Engine's must not pass this board?" Percy read it aloud.

"Oh yeah?!" SCRuffey shouted. "PROVE IT!"

Percy couldn't possibly stop the trucks in time, and they pushed poor Percy past the board and into the sea.

"HELP!" Cried Percy. "What on Earth?!" but no one could help Percy. The tide was too high, the twins weren't strong enough, and the Breakdown Crane was currently in Crovan's Gate!

[]

Sir Topham Hatt was still in his office when the telephone rang. He was just going over the final papers for buying the Skarloey Railway when it did, and he was not happy to answer it. "Yes?"

"This is Brendam Docks, we've got an engine stuck in the water 'ere!" said the voice over the phone. Not needing anymore information, Hatt slammed down the phone and then picked it up again, calling Crovan's Gate station. Edward would soon be leaving the station, and he could bring the crane with him as he did.

[]

"Hey! Hey!" the Stationmaster cried out, just as Edward was about to leave. "Stop please!"

Edward screeched to a halt. "What's the trouble?" Sidney asked the Stationmaster.

"You're to take the Breakdown Crane to Brendam Docks with you, there's a stuck engine there!" he explained.

Edward quickly pulled into the siding and retrieved the Crane, and puffed quickly back to his branch line, feeling exhilarated with newfound speed, after being repaired and all.

As he pulled into the docks, Bill and Ben were already removing the cars from Percy's back, and Sir Topham Hatt was there, listening as Percy explained the situation. Edward looked up the line of cars and saw Bill pulling away SCRuffey, but Edward approached. "Bill, wait a moment. I want to talk to this one." He ordered.

"Yes y'r highness!" Bill laughed, and detached from the car. "Eddie the Elder wants to speak to you!" He told the truck leader, before rolling away laughing.

"Eddie th' Elder?" SCRuffey laughed. "Is tha' wha' they call ya' th's' dayz?"

"Now you listen here." Edward growled, shooting daggers with his eyes. "Is this because of me? Is this Fred's promise of a war?" SCRuffey started to speak but Edward cut him off. "Because if it's a war you want, I promise, you will not survive." the rusty truck gulped, actually appearing scared for once. "Am I clear?"

SCRuffey's terrified demeanor changed, he began to smirk. "Perfectly." He smiled, and rammed forward into Edward's face, cutting his cheek and lip. "And yes, I'm afraid ye'r abou' t' witness HELL if ye'r down fe'r a fight!"

Edward closed his eyes, attempting to calm himself, but SCRuffey gave another hit. Edward's eyes snapped open, and he rammed the truck as hard as he could. SCRuffey tumbled backward, he flipped twice and landed on his side off the rails. His face was bleeding, and he had a tooth sticking out at a bad angle. "Don't even try me." Edward replied, then looked over to Hatt and the Dock Manager, both who were staring dumbfounded. "He deserved it." Edward declared, and pulled the crane around to hoist up the truck.

[]

Night fell, and Edward and Henry were working to pull poor Percy out of the water. SCRuffey and the trucks had been scolded and dealt with by Sir Topham Hatt, and now all that mattered was getting the sad tank engine back on the line. "It wasn't your fault Percy, but i've hoped you've learned to be more careful about cars." the Fat Controller warned.

"Yes sir." Percy moaned.

"Well well well, looks like you've learned a little something about water too!" Henry laughed.

"Oh, but what about your story Percy?" Ben asked.

"Yes! What about the time you braved that storm?" Bill demanded.

"What?" Topham laughed. "Percy's never been in a storm! He must have made that up!"

Percy went redder than James, but Henry kindly pulled him away on a flatbed just then, Bill and Ben shouting about lies all the way he went.

Sir Topham Hatt laughed and looked as Edward was being checked over by a workman, then looked back to the road. Beside his car stood a face he had come to hate. Jerry Jingle was there, interviewing the Dock manager with great interest, scribbling in his notebook. For just a moment, he caught the Fat Controller's eye, and smirked. Hatt glared and turned his back on the reporter, looking back at Bill and Ben being consoled by Edward.

"Make a fool out of my railway? Is that what he's after?" Hatt growled under his breath. "I'll show him. I'll make a modern railway out of us yet." He promised, then set off through the docks.

[]

He had a deal to finish, a two-part deal. The first part was the handing over of the Skarloey Railway to the NWR. The second part was to bring in Stuart and Falcon to the Skarloey Railway, and an engine that would be bringing them would be one for the NWR as well. Topham had considered this for a long time, but it was finally time to modernize his railway, regardless of whose choice it was.

"You're sure about this, darling?" Jane Hatt asked him that night as he signed the papers. "When you're tired you make poor decisions, perhaps you should sleep on it?"

"My dear, my mind is made up." Topham declared. "I knew it would have to happen eventually, but today, with all the slander that reporter had, I'm sure now." Sir Topham Hatt looked up to the picture of Bertram, Lowham and himself sitting atop the old yellow engine. "It's time to restore the Skarloey Railway, it's time to change things, and it's at long last time for a Diesel engine to join my railway." He tossed his hat onto the desk, and shuffled the papers one last time. Jane nodded and kissed his head, and the Fat Controller put the papers in a big folder.

Then, with one last gaze at his grandfather's picture, he turned and left to mail the file.


	33. New, yet Old Faces

**Chapter 33:**

Far off the Island of Sodor, in an undisclosed area of England, there is an aluminum factory. This aluminum factory was quite prestigious during the 40's during the war, continued working well through the 50's, but it'd been facing much competition as of late and was falling short of standard. This company had a small railway build throughout its main complex, and used a pair of steam engines to transport vats of the material. But as it's business began to decline, and the company was downsizing, it no longer had need of this little railway and the two engines.

These engines were named Stuart and Falcon. Long ago, they'd worked on the Mid Sodor Railway, but they had hardly even thought of Sodor for years now, and were rather content on their factory line.

"I'm telling you, it's a conspiracy!" Stuart complained. He was a green engine who liked to think he was perfect and tended to blame others for his own faults. "We've had good business for so long, how can it all suddenly disappear?"

"It's no conspiracy." Falcon grumbled, a blue engine of coarse nature. "The boss is just too thick-headed to realize we've been struggling for a while now! This company could have survived if he'd just let go of those foreign trade deals, but NO!"

Needless to say, they were not happy with the situation. But regardless, despite protesting, bickering, complaining and resisting, they'd been loaded up onto a flatbed that would take them to their new railway.

"Honestly, you two!" their supervisor scolded. "Be glad you're not being scrapped! You're going to a nice railway on Sodor, and-"

Stuart and Falcon spluttered and gasped like water had landed on their face. "Sodor?!" Falcon exclaimed.

"Duke? Atlas? John?" Stuart shouted, recalling long-lost friends. "My old friends?!"

"Don't be daft, Stuart!" Falcon snapped. "Atlas was killed in the mine incident, and John was scrapped after he broke down repeatedly!"

"As should happen to you, I'm sure…" Purred an oily voice. The supervisor moved to the front of the flatbed, where a sleek, black diesel engine had just rolled up. "You tiny old engine's should step aside, my kind will surely take you over."

"Pardon me?" Falcon exclaimed. "And just who do you think you are?"

"Just call me 'Diesel'" The Diesel replied. "I'm to take you to Sodor, but no-one said I had to play nice."

"Enough of that." The Supervisor ordered. "Stuart, Falcon, you've been good workers here, and I wish you the best of luck on Sodor. Goodbye!" He waved and blew his whistle, but seemed more relieved to be rid of them than sad to see them go.

For a time, the Diesel chugged on silently, and Stuart and Falcon only watched as the beautiful countryside whizzed by. What the two little engines didn't know, the Diesel was not only hauling them to Sodor, but he too was going to Sodor to work.

[]

Meanwhile, on the destination island, Duck was pulling the express coaches off from Gordon. "So why do you have that nickname?" Duck asked the back coach. "Wild Nor' Wester, that is. Where does it come from?"

The coaches laughed and snorted. "Silly Great Western." The coach in the back replied. "That's no nickname, that's _our _names!" Duck was confused, and his face must have shown it, so the back coach covered her snickers and continued. "Those three words aren't just words, but each of us girls' names!"

"I'm Wild!" Called the frontmost coach.

"North." The middle one continued.

"And I'm Wester!" the back one finished. "It's a long story as to how we got these names, but together, we became the express train, the Wild Nor' Wester!"

"Interesting!" Duck pondered. "You'd think it'd come from the railway's name- North Western- and your incredible pace- wild!"

"That's the impression we like to keep!" Wester replied as Duck stopped, having placed them in the yard. Elaine Peters disconnected the train from the Great Western engine, and they puffed back to the sheds.

James was there, being washed. "Hullo Duck." he called as Duck rolled up. He didn't look happy, but not because of Duck. "Have you heard the news?" James asked.

"What news? Are the Hatts getting a divorce?" he joked.

"Goodness! No!" James shouted. "Whatever would give you that impression?" Duck merely smiled. "No, that's nothing like it! Rumor has it that a Diesel engine is coming to the island!"

"Oh? Is that all?" Duck said with a bored roll of the eyes. "It's about time, I say! Always knew it would happen. The world is a-changing, and this island needs to keep up."

"What?" James gasped. "Never! This island is a steam engines paradise! Someday it may even be the last safe place for steam kind!"

"I never said this place would be unsafe for steam engines." Duck replied. "But it doesn't mean a few Diesels wouldn't join our ranks. Those BR class 08 shunters are coming out by the boatload, we'll likely end up with a few of those."

"Well I say it's a disgrace! We steam engines run this railway wonderfully, who needs a class 8 shunter?"

[]

Diesel, in case you didn't know, was a class 08 shunter, and Diesel, in case you didn't know, was definitely coming to the North Western Railway. In fact he was already there, puffing into Crovan's Gate where workmen awaited with temporary tracks to unload Stuart and Falcon.

"This place is a dump." Diesel rudely growled.

"This is quite familiar!" Stuart laughed. "Mt Anopha and Culdee Fell towering in the distance, the smell of the sea from the island edges blowing across the isle on the winds-"

"Enough of that." Falcon snapped. "Yes, it's Sodor, but there's no need to keep going on about it!"

Stuart looked hurt, but Diesel smirked. He sat patiently as they unloaded and moved the two little engines onto the Skarloey Railway. As they did, a fat man in a top hat and suit approached and began talking to the workmen, but repeatedly gave Diesel a look-over with a face of disgust. Diesel tried to ignore him, but couldn't help but wonder who the man was.

Finally, the stout gentleman walked across the platform to him. "So, you're the new Diesel?" he asked.

"I'm the shunter sent for by the Controller of this railway." Diesel replied. "Can you tell me where to find the controller?"

"I can quite easily!" The man laughed. "My name is Sir Topham Hatt, and I am the controller of this, the North Western Railway!" Diesel straightened himself and looked calm, reprimanding himself for not suspecting this in the first place. "Now, what do they call you?" Hatt asked.

"They just call me Diesel." he replied, but secretly, he was lying. "Or The Diesel, or THAT Diesel, or-"

"Is that so?" Hatt asked, looking into the Diesel's eyes. Diesel attempted to keep an innocent and straight face, but feared he was failing. "I see." Hatt finally said, breaking the tense eye-contact. "Alright. It's getting late, there's no time to start your work today, so tomorrow I'll have Duck show you the yards."

"I presume Duck is one of your engines?" Diesel replied.

"Yes, Montague is." Hatt replied. "Montage being his *ahem* REAL name, but we just call him Duck." Diesel scowled, knowing Hatt was catching on all too quickly. "He's our current shunter, but I think he could use some time out of the yards. That's why you're here." A guard's whistle blew, and Hatt waved him off. "Alright then Diesel, head straight down the line till you reach Tidmouth, the sheds are there and you can have a rest."

"Thank you sir." Diesel curtly nodded and set off down the main line.

Sir Topham Hatt watched him go. He'd clearly been lying about the name, but why, he asked himself. A shout and a whistle drew away his attention from the little black engine disappearing down the rails, and he turned back to the little engines.

[]

Stuart and Falcon had carefully and quickly made it to the terminus of the Skarloey Railway. There were a few old sheds and a lot of cars and coaches, but there wasn't much to be spoken of. "What a dump!" Falcon exclaimed.

"I like it!" Stuart retorted. "It's quaint, and reminds me of the old days!"

"In the old days, this might have been standard-" Falcon continued grumbling. "-but nowadays an engine needs better than this! Look at it! It's small! It's falling apart!"

"And so is everything else on this line." replied another small voice from nearby. The two engines backed up to find another engine, pulling a short line of empty trucks into the yard, and he was wheezing horribly as he did so. "Sorry to butt in like that, but it's the truth."

"Are you alright Mate?" Stuart asked, worried about the little engine.

"I'll be fine, just need a bit of r&r if you know what I mean." he replied with a weak smile. "Excuse me."

The engine struggled past Stuart and came to a rest in the shed in front of them. He was painted scarlet, but rust patches and empty spots covered his frame. There was once a nameplate on his side, but all that remained now was a discoloured spot and a few bolts. His wheels were covered in dirt, and his funnel had a small branch sticking out of it. "What a sight." Falcon muttered. "You need a proper repair job!"

The red engine's driver came out of his cab and crawled atop him to remove the branch. "How are you Rheneas?" he asked the engine.

"Rheneas?" Stuart repeated. "Is that your name?"

"I'm fine, thanks Perkins." the engine sighed. "Yes, my name is Rheneas. Me and my brother, Skarloey, have run this line to exhaustion for years. It's in desperate need of repairs and new faces like yours."

Falcon bit his tongue, and Stuart nodded solemnly. "So your controller brought me and Falcon back, does this mean you and your brother will be repaired?"

"Back?" Rheneas asked. "I mean- yes, Skarloey's already at the works I know, and now that you're here I can get myself a nice fixing." Rheneas looked to Falcon, then back to Stuart. "What do you mean back? Have you worked on Sodor?"

Stuart opened his mouth to reply but just then, two of the workmen and a certain fat gentleman walked into the yards, pushing aside the branches of a low-hanging tree. "So! You've already met Rheneas!" He chortled. "How are we all?"

"Good day Sir!" Rheneas coughed. "These two look just right for our old railway!"

"Glad you approve, old boy!" the sir replied. "You take a rest now, I'll be taking them to get to your work!" He then turned to Stuart and Falcon as the workmen hopped inside their cabs. "Alright you two. There'll be more time tonight for introductions, right now I need you-" He pointed to Stuart "to grab those coaches and take them up the line. It's an easy run, just stop at every station up and back." He then turned to Falcon. "You are going to be taking some trucks to the slate mine. There's not much there right now, just get them loaded and bring them back, Mr. Arkwright knows the way!"

Falcon and Stuart patiently waited as their fires were stoked and their tanks filled, then they puffed off dutifully, leaving Rheneas to rest in the sheds. "You know…" Hatt quietly thought aloud. "I could swear I recognized those two engines."

"They said they were 'back'." Rheneas replied from his shed. "I don't know what they meant exactly, but they aren't from our line."

Hatt looked back up the Skarloey line, where the engines were puffing away up the track. He put his finger to his chin thoughtfully, wondering where he may have seen them before, but he didn't have time to stand around. Tipping his hat to the old scarlet engine beside him, he marched back to Crovan's Gate, but tripped over a gnarled root poking out of the ground between the rail sleepers. "I've got to get this railway cleaned up. It's a good thing I convinced Sir Handel Brown to sell it to me after all these years."

[]

Thomas was sitting at Knapford station that night, pulling his much-delayed train in at last. "It's too late to be heading back to Ffarquhar sheds." Bob Hardy groaned as they stopped at the platform, the sunset bathing the platform in orange light. "I guess we're going back to Tidmouth."

"That's alright. I wanted to talk to Henry anyways." Thomas replied, exhausted from a troublesome day along his branch line.

The passengers unloaded and Thomas pulled away from the station, taking Annie and Clarabel to the yards himself. He set them beside Wild, North and Wester and puffed to Tidmouth Station, where Bob got off and let Thomas go to the shed himself. When he did, he found a strange sight.

Duck and Gordon were sitting in the edge berths, both glaring down something that sat in a berth near the middle. Thomas couldn't see it at first, the odd light obscuring the shape of it, but as he approached the sheds, he could make out a black engine. "Is that the Marklin Engine?!" He cried out. "What in Godred's name-"

But then he stopped. James was sitting on the sideline looking incredibly uneasy, and the engine didn't look like a Marklin. It didn't look like a steam engine either… which could only mean.

"Be careful Thomas!" James called. "That Diesel looks lean and mean!"

Thomas was shocked. There, asleep in a berth he preferred, was a black Diesel shunter. He was confused as he spun on the turntable, and took the berth beside Duck, leaving one berth's space between himself and the new Diesel. "Who is this?" He asked Duck.

"Nary an Idea." Duck replied. "He was already here and asleep when I came in for the night. No one knows who he is or when he arrived-"

"Or if he's staying!" James shouted across the yards.

"Right." Duck nodded. "But anyway I don't see what the fuss is! I was just telling James earlier that I was expecting a Diesel to come at some point!"

Thomas nodded and looked the Diesel over. He was sneering while snoring, and it gave him a frightful face. Thomas had met many Diesels before, a lifetime ago on the LBSCR, and had seen Mavis a few times in Anopha Quarry, but this one made him uncomfortable- more so than the Marklin engine ever had. "I hope it's only temporary." He whispered, looking down at the turntable as his fire cooled.

[]

[]

_(Well well well! There's a few secrets hidden in there, isn't there? Stuff to make you think! What's Diesel's real name? Thomas's past? Who are Stuart and Falcon exactly? ….actually any good fan should know the answer to the last one, but the other two are mine own to reveal when the time comes!)_

_-HC712_


	34. The Dilemma of Diesels

_(To respond to a review by 'Purple Guest' (I assume this means you don't have an account? That's alright tho.) The answer to your first Question: I honestly forgot the Ministry of Defence Diesel even existed! When you mentioned him I had to go back and re-learn about it, and now that I have I will say that I have a few options on fitting him into the story, so yes, it will be appearing at some point, I just don't know when yet… As for your other question, the simplest answer is No, PT Boomer's death was not intended to be a reference to his actor's death. There are other plans for that._

_To respond to a review by 'Modern Guest 5': Aw, you doubt me? ;)_

_But enough about future plans! Today's story should come as no surprise, but I hope it's still fun to read. This is, after all, the infamous first part of the 'Diesel and Duck Trilogy.')_

_-HC712_

[]

**Chapter 34:**

Duck awoke this morning with a pain in his tongue. He shifted it around in his mouth and found an indent from his teeth left in it. Clearly he'd been biting his tongue all night.

Shifting his focus to the rest of the world around him, he looked to see that Thomas had already left the sheds, probably since his first chore was at the top of his branch line, and that the Diesel was still asleep in his shed and snoring loudly. James had apparently remained on the sideline for the night, and was shivering as he woke. Gordon was still asleep, but Henry had been brave enough, however, to take one of the sheds beside the Diesel, and was also eyeing the sleeping newcomer.

"Suspicious much?" Ivo asked upon seeing all three engines gawking at the Diesel. "I haven't woken him because I have no idea how! Never worked with a diesel after all…"

Ivo passed the Diesel and stepped into Gordon's cab. "I don't like the look of him… what's he here for?" Asked Henry, who'd been pulling the Flying Kipper the night before and hadn't heard the conversations.

"We don't know." Duck replied. "All we know is there wa_th_ a rumor he'd be coming, then he wa_th_ here, a_th_leep, la_th_ night when we all pulled in to _th_leep."

Henry stared at Duck. "What did you even just say?"

"I bit me tongue in me _th_leep." Duck replied with a li_th_p. (lisp)

[]

Meanwhile, up at Anopha Quarry, work never ceased for Mavis the Quarry Diesel. Now she had a load of trucks, and was awaiting Toby to come and pick up the load. She nor the manager knew that Toby wasn't awake yet, but were expecting him to come any second now.

"Blasted Tram's probably gone and broken down." Mavis grumbled, pushing the last truck into the train.

"Looks like you'll have to take it down the line Mavis." Called the Manager, Jabez Croarie. "Just take it to Ffarq-farfw- That first station and leave it!"

Mavis, eager for a long-deserved run out of the Quarry, ran up to the front of the train. A workman jumped aboard as a temporary driver, as she never needed a driver in the Quarry. Her side plates protected workmen, and the yard was small enough that she didn't need much looking after while working and shunting.

She pulled out of the Quarry with the line of trucks and trundled down the mountain, taking in the warm forest air as she got out of the rocky place she was so used to.

Ffarquhar wasn't far, and she slowed carefully as she approached the yards.

"-dirty, black-painted diesel!" said a nearby voice. Mavis halted a little too quickly, and a few rocks tumbled from her cars. The worker-driver got out and set the brakes and detached the train, and Mavis kept listening.

"Are you sure Thomas?" Squeaked a higher voice. "Diesels aren't that bad."

"James and Gordon were terrified!" replied the first voice. "A diesel like that on Sodor just isn't right!"

"Now now-" Cut in a third voice that Mavis recognized; Toby. "It can't be all that bad. My old tramway nearly was taken by Diesels, but they failed miserably!" He laughed, and Mavis felt sick. "One fell in a river, as I recall. Those Diesels aren't all that reliable!"

Mavis felt her eyes stinging, and she scrunched up her face, ignoring the rest of the conversation and quietly weeping as she rolled back up to the confines of her quarry.

But had she stayed longer, she might have realized they were not talking about her, as Toby continued. "Class 8s tend to fail. That new Diesel will be gone soon."

"Isn't there another Diesel up in Anopha?" Thomas asked.

"Oh Mavis? Yes, she's a good strong worker." Toby replied. "She's a bit rough but I can tell she's just a bit scared."

"I'd like to meet her at some point." Percy said. Just as he said that, the distraught engine they spoke of blew her horn in the forest, still upset and stuck at a level crossing. "What was that?"

"Sounded like Mavis, but that didn't come from the Quarry, that was nearby." Toby deduced. "Is she coming down?" He wondered, and puffed slightly out of his shed, his fire having been lit by Bob Hardy, and looked around the yards. He saw the line of stone-filled trucks just nearby and gasped.

"What is it?" Thomas asked.

"She's not coming down… she was already down here." Toby said, realizing the misunderstanding that had just happened. "Percy, get me Henrietta, I'm going to Anopha."

[]

Back at Knapford Yards, Duck was just finishing shunting away an overnight train Edward had brought when he heard a Diesel horn blow. "Oh boy. Here we go." he sighed.

The Diesel rolled around a corner and stopped just beside Duck. "'ullo." He growled, surveying the Great Western.

Duck opened his mouth to reply, but just then Sir Topham Hatt stepped off the new engine. "Good morning Duck!" he boomed. "This is 'Diesel', yes that is is name. I've agreed to give him a trial, and he needs to be taught about our yard."

"Yes." Diesel sarcastically grumbled. "I need taught…"

"Yes _th_ir." Duck spat. "_Th_orry about the tongue, bit it la_th_ night."

Topham stifled a laugh, but Diesel had much less subtlety, and guffawed at Duck's manner of speaking. "How unfortunate, Duck." Hatt finally said, composing himself. "Well anyways, I'll leave you two here." And with that he walked out of the yards.

"Heh." Diesel laughed. "Alright, Montague-" Diesel winked at Duck's confusion- "Your worthy Topham H-"

"That'_th_ _TH_IR Topham Hatt to you." Duck snapped.

Diesel rolled his eyes. "Your worthy _TH_IR Topham Hatt says I need training- forgive the pun. But I don't. We diesels don't need taught. We are revolutionary! We come to a yard and make it better!"

"I_th_ that _th_o?" Duck blubbered. "Well if you're _th_o Revo- revolu_th_-" Duck stopped, tired of his forced lisp. "Revo-thingummy, then you can collect a train of seven cars and a brake van for me to take to Knapford Harbour!"

Diesel, eager to prove himself, agreed, and Duck scampered off to the water tower. "Silly little tank engine. He'll be scrapped. They all will, just like 10 said."

[]

"A diesel you say?" Edward asked James, both of them stopped at Wellsworth for the moment.

"He's a black, Class 8 shunter." James said, describing Diesel to Edward, who had yet to meet the Diesel. "He just showed up yesterday and glared and growled-"

"You sound a tad prejudiced!" Edward laughed. "Relax, Sir Topham Hatt would never let the Diesels take over NWR, he's been fighting the Beeching Cuts and trying to Privatize our railway for years now, carrying on what Sir Bertram Hatt and your controller, Gerald, wanted."

"Not the only plans Topham took from Bertram and Gerald." Sidney remarked. "Both of those old men tried to partner with A. W. Dry for as long as I've worked here and never succeeded!"

"That's not the point!" James shouted. "Regardless of two dead men's plans, there IS a Diesel on Sodor!" the guard blew his whistle to both engines, and they nodded at each other. "Goodbye Edward, and may Godred's Grace protect us."

"It's not that big of a deal!" Shouted Edward, but James was gone, puffing down the track to Vicarstown. Edward chuckled with a sigh and they set off back down his branch line.

[]

Back in Knapford Yards, Diesel had found seven empty trucks set in a siding in the back of the yard, and he'd shunted a brake van quickly onto them. Coupled up to them, he was attempting to force them out of the siding.

Duck watched with great interest, and laughed. These particular cars had been sitting there for years, untouched. Only three of them were sentient, and didn't care. And worse still, the Brake van he'd shunted was the one known for being Spiteful and most troublesome.

Diesel tugged at the trucks, and the sentient ones screamed in pain. "Get a move on!" Diesel growled.

"We can't! We won't!" the trucks screamed. "You'll never get us out!"

"You'll find-" Diesel snarled, pulling as hard as he could and snorting in frustration. "-I'm full of surprises!"

The brake van was laughing, and Duck could see why. The Brake Van and every truck had their brakes set, and there was little chance of getting them to move. "We're coming apart! You can't! We won't!" the cars chanted.

Just then, Diesel ripped the frontmost truck to bits. Luckily it wasn't a sentient one, but the rest of the trucks jerked and jammed their wheels in the track sleepers. Diesel buckled and let off a blast of smoke. Duck chuckled and whizzed around the yard, grabbing his own trucks and then pulled over beside Diesel.

"Well well well!" Duck laughed. "You were right, and I am _th_urpri_th_ed! That i_th_, _th_urpri_th_ed that you didn't realize these cars wouldn't move for anything! I'll fetch you the breakdown crane and you can pick up your mess, alright?"

Diesel's face paled, which was quite a feat considering how pale he already looked against his black paint. "You got your trucks yourself?" He quietly said. "D-don't you want this lot?"

"Oh no!" Duck replied. "They haven't been touched in forever!" Duck was trying to avoid any word that used an 's', and seemed to be succeeding in hiding his temporary speech impediment. "Thank you, I'll be off now!"

Diesel growled, but the worst was yet to come. Fred Pelhay had been watching the whole event. "Lookie 'ere!" He laughed. "This Diesel think's 'es so clever!"

"You got a song Fred?" asked a tanker.

"I've always got a song." Fred replied quietly as Duck returned with the crane and left it beside Diesel. "Wait till Duck goes or he'll spoil our fun.

And they did. As soon as the Great Western Engine was out of sight, Fred tapped off a tempo on the buffers in front of him, and the cars began to sing, to the tune of 'Pop Goes the Weasel"

"_Cars are waiting in the yard_

_Tack'ling them with ease-l_

'_Show the world what I can do'_

_Laud'ly boasts the Diesel!_

_In and out, 'e creeps about_

_Like a big black weasel!_

_But when he pulls the wrong cars out-"_

Diesel snarled a warning, but to no avail.

"_POP GOES THE DIESEL!"_

The trucks on all sides jittered and jeered. Laughing and taunting, they shouted rude things and spat at the Diesel until he ran out of the yards, screaming curses all the way back to Tidmouth Sheds.

And there he began to cry. His driver, a good man by the name of August Harvey, stepped out of his cab and leaned against the shed wall. "Too much, eh mate?"

"What did I do?" Diesel wailed. "I just wanted to show them how good I was, how good Diesels can be for the island!"

August sighed and patted the black engine's face. "I think you may have done this quite the wrong way. You did sound more boastful than eager."

Diesel sat there for a minute, crying gently. He was not crying because he was weak, nor was he really crying from being hurt by the Trucks or Duck. The reason he was crying was fear. Fear of what would happen to him if he was sent back to the British Railways. Fear of what the other Diesels would say or think. Fear of what his leader would do or say of him, 'The Warship of Barrow' was not a forgiving Diesel.

"Oi!" Boomed a voice from outside the shed. August looked up and saluted. Diesel knew this meant it could only be Sir Topham Hatt standing there. "Are you alright Diesel?"

"I'm fine sir!" Snapped Diesel, not wanting to show any sign of weakness.

"Then get back in the yards! There's coaches waiting to be sorted!" The Fat Controller ordered.

Diesel let August back aboard and slowly backed out of the shed again, and, without another word to the controller, went straight back into the yards.

The trucks rallied again, jeering and shouting as Diesel slowly rolled back into the yards. Diesel looked around and growled. The trucks were troublesome by nature, and sentient train knew that. But they had to be provoked to bring out a full-scale taunt like this, and who had provoked them, Diesel asked?

Montague, AKA Duck.

And he was going to get his revenge.

[]

_TO BE CONTINUED IN "_The Deeds of Diesel"

[]

_(Warship was the nickname for the BR class 42 diesels. _

_Also, part two of this trilogy does not come next. I'm going to divide up this trilogy and spend a little time on other parts of the story, but it will be continued soon regardless._

_Whoof. I think I did Diesel justice on this re-interpretation of him. I'm honestly pretty proud of this chapter!)_

_-HunterCreeper712_


	35. A Tank Engine's Day

**Chapter 35:**

Thomas was impatiently waiting at Knapford Station. It was five minutes past his leaving time, and he was waiting on Gordon to bring the Express passengers from Vicarstown.

"This is ridiculous! Where is that big brute?" Thomas grumbled.

"Give him time Thomas." Annie calmly replied.

"The Viaduct-at-Wellsworth is under construction, and they can't rush or they might hurt someone!" Clarabel reminded.

The Viaduct Bridge had been wearing down recently, and with new stone coming off of Anopha everyday, workmen crews had been redoing each section of the bridge, with the process slowing

trains awfully.

"I know, but can't the Express engine catch up time?" Thomas snapped.

Diesel rolled through the station, grumbling as always, but Thomas didn't pay him any mind. The newcomer had become much more humble since his first day, and wasn't such an elitist anymore.

Finally, a deep whistle was heard, and 'round the far turn came the Wild Nor' Wester, puffing quickly to the platform. "I thought you'd never make it!" Thomas laughed. "I was about to puff off!"

"You can't Thomas." Clarabel called.

"You're a guaranteed connection!" Annie said loudly, referring to the fact that Thomas could not leave without all the passengers.

"You can just wait, little tank engine." Gordon huffed, out of breath and red in the face. "The Viaduct-"

"I know all about the Viaduct!" Thomas snapped. "I know all about the delay, but now I've got to catch up time, and Bertie and Percy will give tease me so!"

"Deal with it." Gordon pulled away and left his coaches for Diesel, and Thomas puffed down the line and passed the junction to his branch line.

He stopped first at Dryaw, where Harold the Helicopter said hello, and later found Toby waiting at Maithwaite.

"Running late again Thomas?" Toby laughed.

"I'z'not MY fault!" Thomas complained. "What am I supposed to do while Gordon dawdles on bloody Viaducts?"

"You should try being patient." Henrietta called. "Take a look around the station, smell the flowers!"

"I hate the smell of flowers, they make me sneeze." Thomas replied.

"Oh you're just a bundle of joy!" Toby laughed, then left the station with a ring of his bell.

Thomas waited as his passengers disembarked, then he blew his whistle to indicate he was moving, but something was wrong. His whistle's pitch wavered, and sounded like a poorly-tuned flute. "Goodness!" Thomas gasped, and blew his whistle again, hearing the same broken sound. "What's happened to my whistle?" Thomas cried, stopping suddenly just beyond the platform.

Bob Hardy stepped onto Thomas's bufferbeam and climbed atop his boiler. "Oh that's a problem!" He laughed. "Your whistle's gone wonky!"

"What shall I do about it?" Thomas called. "Can you fix it?"

"I'm not sure how…" Bob sighed. "Perhaps we should see if the works can do anything about it?"

"Is it bad?" "Could it be dangerous?" Annie and Clarabel asked worriedly.

"No." Bob replied, crawling back down now. "I think we should finish this run and let another engine take our other trains today."

"Blast!" Thomas shouted suddenly as Bob fed steam. "Now I'll be even later to Ffarquhar!"

[]

Luckily, Thomas made up time, and reached Dryaw again nearly back on time. His whistle now sounded worse, with each blow changing it's sounds as it blew, like a trombone gliss. Duck was waiting there, watching an Aeroplane take off. "Goodness sakes Thomas!" He cried. "You need to go see Victor!"

"That's the plan, can you take my coaches to Knapford?" Thomas asked.

"I think that'll work." Elaine agreed, leaning out of Duck's cab. "We were just heading back there anyways!"

Thomas and Duck quickly transferred Annie and Clarabel to the Great Western, and Thomas pulled away quickly off his branchline and down the Main line.

He whistled to Henry, who snorted in surprise at the sound of it. He ignored it and kept chuffing till he came to the Viaduct. He slowed and took a look around.

The Breakdown crane was lowering stones and men down the side of the bridge to work on the supporting beams. Workmen were running around and hefted stones into place around the track, and two of the three tracks were blocked to allow for the construction. Thomas was halted as he approached, then allowed over very slowly.

"I'm beginning to see why the other engines take so much extra time." he quietly said, and promised to not badger them any more about how late they were.

He made it across and stopped at Wellsworth for water. Both Toby and James were there, and neither seemed to want to talk. Henrietta smiled warmly, but Thomas only nodded politely.

"Ahoy Bob!" Geoffrey Black called, and stepped away from James for a moment to help load up Thomas.

"Good day Geoff!" Bob called back. "These two still haven't really made up, have they?"

"James is just too proud to admit Toby's right." Geoffrey whispered.

"About what?" Thomas asked.

"That he's a complete areshole." Crovan replied, speaking loud enough for James and Toby to hear.

"Say, what are you n' Toby doing here anyway?" Bob suddenly asked Crovan. "Why aren't you on the branch line?"

"We've just brought the stone trucks from Anopha Quarry for the construction." Crovan replied. "Mavis is still an emotional mess, back to hiding from us whenever we come up the mountain!"

"Has Toby tried to explain who we were talking about?" Thomas asked.

"Yes!" Toby shouted. "And the bloody stubborn gal won't listen to a word I say!"

"Sounds like she's a smart one!" James taunted. "To ignore you, that is."

"See what I mean?" Geoffrey sighed, defeated.

The drivers bid farewell and returned to their engines, and James began to pull away. Thomas was about to do the same, when Toby shouted, "Look out for the tar tankers James!"

James slammed his brakes and looked up the track, where only a few stone trucks sat laughing. "TOBY!" James screamed.

It was time for Thomas to leave, he had seen everything. Ignoring the furthering rant between the two engines, he blew his wonky whistle and kept going down the line.

[]

At Crovan's Gate, he finally pulled off the main line and rolled into the Steamworks sidings. He stopped between two sheds and Bob walked away to find the manager. Thomas looked around for a moment and his eyes fell upon a small, scarlet engine he'd never seen before. You readers know this is Skarloey, but Thomas was surprised. The engine smiled, and Thomas gaped. "Are you Victor?" Asked Thomas, who'd never met the doctor engine before.

Skarloey laughed. "Boyo, M'name's Skarloey."

Thomas gasped, remembering Crovan telling him about the whistles over Mount Anopha. "Are you the engine who runs the Skarloey railway?!"

"It's got my name in it!" Skarloey replied. "My brother, Rheneas, and I have run it for decades longer than you've been built! But the controller just bought two new engines, and set me here to be repaired soon. Rheneas will be sent to the mainland to be repaired, and I miss him."

"Where is he?" Thomas asked.

"As far as I know he's still on the line for a few more days, but he needs repaired more desperately than I do!"

Thomas nodded sadly, and then looked over at the station. A smaller whistle was heard from further away, an engine from the Skarloey Railway no doubt.

"Hola mi friend!" called another voice from in the work sheds. "Come in!"

Thomas rolled in the further shed cautiously, and there was Victor, the Doctor engine, waiting on a newly-installed turntable. Engine parts littered the area, and there were few workmen moving things around as the blue tank engine rolled into the shed. "Bring him here!" Called one of the workmen.

Bob climbed back on and Thomas moved onto the siding indicated, and stopped beside a flatbed of metal parts.

"Whistle?" Victor asked a workman. "I see. Truck dos." Thomas didn't understand everything the doctor spoke, but he knew what he was doing, so Thomas just waited.

Bob and a few workmen pulled scrap metal from a truck that Victor shunted over, and Victor instructed them in his native spanish as they worked. Thomas' fire fizzled out and he began to fall asleep as they worked.

Then a workman dropped a Hammer on his nose. Thomas yelped and backed up sharply, throwing Bob from the footplate, and knocking over a truck, which hit another, which toppled a shelf- in short it was a series of events that cascaded into nearly everything in the workplace falling over, and a large can of scarlet paint spilling all across the poor doctor engine.

Thomas gaped, but Victor just laughed. "_Rojo!"_ he said between chortles. "I like it!"

"You look great in Red!" Skarloey called. "Wonderful, like me!"

Thomas finally laughed too, feeling better about the accident as the scarlet paint covered the yellow-green doctor engine, and he blew his newly-fixed whistle with pride.

[]

_But on the Caledonian Railway, things were bleak for steam-kind engines. In a small shed at an unnamed town, three engines sat, awaiting news of their fate. Two of them CR Class 812 were painted black, and numbered 57646 and 57647. The third was a bright red LNER B12 named Eagle. _

"_We'll be scrapped fer shure!" 57646 moaned. _

"_Despair not Donnie." 57647 replied. "Yon Controll'r's gone t' otha' railways, tryin' t' keep us alive!"_

"_There's got to be someone who will take us." Eagle added. _

"_Not likely." Growled a rude diesel beside them. "The whole BR has switched to our kind, you'll be better off facing the torch."_

"_Shut it ye' shitebag!" 57647 snapped._

"_Douggie, there's no point in fightin' 'im." 57646 sighed. _

"_Don't give up faith. There's got to be somewhere that'll take us." Eagle calmly said, and the rude diesel rolled away. "The Middleton Railway is an option, The Bluebell Railway is regaining it's footing, and you can't forget Sodor's North Western Railway."_

"_On'y if the'll tak' us." 57646 sighed._

"_Have faith!" Eagle cheerfully added. "We're three, good, strong engines with near-spotless records! What railway wouldn't want us?"_

_[]_

_[]_

_(A relatively relaxed chapter that mostly sets up further stories, I hope this wasn't a disappointment. Elements from the season 15 episode 'Wonky Whistle' are here, as you can see, but for the most part… it was kind of a boring chapter, eh? At least, till the Epilogue section. _

_But to respond to a review by 'Modern Guest 5': I don't understand what you mean. I know C. Awdry wrote annuals, but what do you mean by 'how they got their nickname?' I don't know what annual you might be specifically referring to, so could you explain that more please?_

_To 'compositor': Thank you for the glowing review! I'm trying to get these accents down myself, but i'll keep you in mind if I need help._

_Anyways, thanks for reading- to all of you!)_

_-HunterCreeper712_


	36. The Essence of Names

**Chapter 36:**

It'd been a week since the three new engines had come to the island, and for the most part, there was no real trouble. The Viaduct work was still slowing down the main line traffic, but the narrow gauge line was running smoothly with it's two new engines.

When Stuart and Falcon woke up, they were quite surprised. "What in Godred's name?!" Falcon shouted.

"Bust my boiler… this is different…." Stuart added quietly.

In the night, they'd been repainted. Only yesterday they were dark green (Stuart) and navy blue (Falcon), but now they were both the bright scarlet that matched Rheneas and Skarloey. But there was more, each of them had a small number on their cab and a nameplate on their side- which did not read Stuart nor Falcon.

"Gah! They've stripped us of our identity!" Falcon exclaimed. "Look at you! You're named 'Peter Sam' now, and you're as red as a fire engine!"

"Peter Sam?" Stuart/Peter Sam asked. "Well you aren't Falcon anymore! You've become 'Sir Handel!"

Sir Handel spluttered and cursed. "I am Falcon of the Mid Sodor Railway! What sort of git would defile me like this?!"

[]

But names were on the mind of more than just the re-christened narrow-gauge engines. The new Diesel rolled through the yard near Tidmouth Shed, in a fortunate silence. The trucks had a habit of singing loud and hurtful songs whenever it was just him in the yard, but their silence indicated another engine was in the yards, possibly even one the trucks feared.

Diesel shunted a line of coaches aside and pushed a line of tankers further into the yard, but heard a different voice as he did. The voice was reciting an old nursery rhyme: "_-the counting house, counting out his money. The queen was in the parlour, eating bread and honey. The maid was in the courtyard, hanging up the clothes, when along came a Blackbird an-_"

"Who called?!" Diesel suddenly called before he could think. Like instinct, he'd responded to his real name, but who on the island knew his real name? "I mean, who's there?" He tried to cover.

Duck rolled around a line of branchline coaches that were under repair. "Jumpy are we?" He said with a smirk.

"Oh, it's you." Diesel growled, still unforgiving of the embarrassment Duck had caused him. He pushed the tankers forward more, but Duck moved just enough to block a middle tanker with the edge of his buffers, stopping Diesel. "What?"

"I didn't say Diesel, what made you think I said your name?" Duck asked.

Diesel didn't like how Duck was catching on. "I-I didn't." He replied, avoiding eye contact. "I was just wondering who was in the yard. I thought you sounded like-" But Diesel couldn't come up with who Duck sounded like.

"Right." Duck nodded and pulled away from the tanker. Diesel didn't move, and Duck looked him over. "So what was it?"

"What was what?" Diesel sharply replied.

"What did I say that sounded like your REAL name?" Duck asked knowingly. "I know your name isn't Diesel, that's ridiculous. So what is it?"

Diesel looked back to Duck finally, and Duck raised his eyebrow. "I don't think you're the one who gets to ask about REAL names, Montague."

"But at least I admit to having a nickname."

Diesel stormed off, and Duck rolled backward out of the yard, repeating the rhyme to himself. "_The king was in the counting house, counting out his money. The queen was in the parlour, eating bread and honey. The maid was in the courtyard, hanging up the clothes, when along came a Blackbird and snipped off her nose!" _

[]

Meanwhile, on the Skarloey Line, Falcon AKA Sir Handel was still upset at his new livery and name. He was meant to be pulling the express to Skarloey Road (that's the top-most station), but was currently in the yards shouting at the coaches for doing things like complimenting his new paint job.

"It makes you look so distinguished!" one said.

"Yes! Like Skarloey or Rheneas!" Another agreed.

"Shut up!" Sir Handel screamed, and slammed his buffers into the coaches who were speaking. They yelped but remained quiet after, so he rolled over to his baby-blue express coaches and hooked up to them.

"He's awful rude!" One named Agnes said quietly.

"We'll get him back at Glennock." Another, Lucy, replied.

"Hit him back!" Ruth agreed.

"Be quiet back there!" Sir Handel ordered. "Back in my day, Coaches were seen and not heard, so you'd best shut up!"

Peter Sam rolled by at this second and guffawed at Sir Handel's remark. "That was Engines." He called to his friend.

"What about engines?" Sir Handel demanded gruffly.

"Back in Duke's day, _Engines_ were seen and not heard." Peter Sam laughed in reply. "That's, of course, because he was one of the first Sentient engines in the world."

Sir Handel didn't reply, just huffily left for Crovan's Highway- the Narrow-gauge station in Crovan's Gate. The coaches kept a wary eye on him as he went, but he kept to himself for a while, only grumbling at his reflection in the Skarloey Lake, or chiding passengers to hurry so he could keep his schedule.

[]

Back on the Main Line, Diesel and Duck had an arrangement for the time. They took turns working the yards and shunting trains, but should the need of extra work arise, the one out of the yards would take care of it, like a spare engine. Today, Diesel was called to Knapford Harbour to pull away a load of extra supplies. Work had progressed drastically over time, and the Harbour expansion was nearly complete.

As the black engine pulled onto the Quay, Harold the Helicopter whizzed overhead, on the lookout for stranded boats, and Trevor cheerfully pulled a wagon of rock to the unfinished section. "Good morning!" the tractor called, but Diesel paid him no mind, but found his trucks and buffered up to them. August Harvey stepped off to talk to the manager, and Percy puffed up as he waited, goggling at him like a zoo exhibit.

"Can I help you?" Diesel finally snarled.

"Oh!" Percy shook himself, realizing he was staring. "Sorry! I haven't seen a Diesel for years!" the Caterpillar engine tilted his head slightly. "You're different from the ones I knew though."

"And you look like an ugly Caterpillar." Diesel growled in response, hoping to offend Percy. Instead, to Diesel's surprise, Percy laughed. "What's funny about that?"

"That's what I am!" Percy replied. "I used to be a saddle tank engine, but i've been rebuilt so many times I'm my own class! So, Sir Topham Hatt registered me as a 'Sudric Caterpillar Class'!"

Diesel rolled his eyes, disappointed. "I suppose if I tried to insult another engine I might just compliment them? If I called Duck a Goose he'd laugh? If I called James a Fire engine he'd agree?"

Percy laughed at this too, which is not what Diesel was expecting either. "No! The bigger engines still would be offended by nicknames!"

"Like what?" Diesel prodded, finally getting somewhere.

Percy opened his mouth to reply, but then stopped. He closed his mouth into a frown, and shook his head. "I shouldn't gossip about other engines, especially where there are trucks about."

And with that, the little green engine scampered away, leaving Diesel scowling. He was looking for a way to get back at Duck. A nickname he hated, a bit of information that shouldn't be spread around, but Percy seemed wiser and hadn't let anything go.

But had he? 'No gossiping around trucks', he said. But what might the trucks know? Diesel had been on the receiving end of the trucks attacks for two weeks now, he knew they could make an engine feel worthless. All he had to do was turn their taunting to Duck.

He rolled further on the Quay, where a few lines of trucks rested, including an old Brake Van who was attempting to get his attention. Diesel looked around to clarify, then moved closer to the van. "Who are you?" He whispered.

"I'm just an old Brake van who has the information you're looking for." it replied. "You want taunts? Nicknames? Rude reminders to the other engines, boyo i've got what you need."

"What's the catch?" Diesel asked, knowing how Trucks interacted with Engines.

"When I need a favor, you come calling." The Elderly Brake Van replied. "It won't be nothin' hard!" Diesel considered this carefully, then nodded. The Elderly Brake Van smiled. "Well then, have I got stories for you."

[]

"Blasted cattle cars! That's what you are!" Sir Handel roared as he crossed a viaduct along his route. "You're making me slow, you're making me late!"

He was running late, but that was not the fault of the coaches, rather the fault of an old guard who had held up the train at the station when he took a half an hour bathroom break. However, the coaches were not helping, trying to hold back and whispering behind his back.

"What did he call us?" Beatrice, the brake van, asked.

"Cattle cars? Cattle cars?!" Agnes exclaimed with outrage.

"That's what you are! Or at least, that's as good as you are!" Sir Handel shouted. "Cattle cars!" And with that, he smacked the frontmost -Ruth- with his back buffers and continued down the line.

For a distance, it was silent. They stopped at Cros-ny-curin (going back down the line now) and Sir Handel let the passengers off, but the coaches were plotting. "Get him back!" Hissed Lucy.

"Bump him off!" Jemima jeered. "Off the rails!"

"Wait a moment girls, wait a moment." Ruth replied. Sir Handel hadn't noticed a thing, and was about to steam off. "On my signal!" Sir Handel had built up steam and rolled away slowly. Beatrice the brake van was just shy of the platform when Ruth yelled "NOW!"

All five of the cars jerked, and Sir Handel's wheels slipped right off the tracks. "Damn!" He shouted. "Damn you cattle cars!"

"Serves you right for calling us that!" Agnes replied sharply.

Sir Handel cursed and shouted some more, but to no avail. The damage was done and he was off the line. But how to get him back on- or at least get the passengers home safe? Peter Sam was far away at the Quarry, and Rheneas had been taken to the mainland for repairs already, so what was to be done?

[]

Diesel scuttled through the yards, ignoring the taunting and unending song of 'Pop goes the Diesel'. His mind was working furiously. The Elderly Brake Van had given him much information, but nothing useful.

He'd told him enough to damage three of the engines, but nothing about Duck at all. He'd talked about how Henry had once failed to hold back a line of trucks on Gordon's hill, and ended up flattening his wheels into near-squares, resulting in him earning the nickname 'Old Square Wheels' from an engine who'd left the island long ago.

Then he told him about Edward chasing down James when James' brakes failed along the main line, despite James having claimed that Edward could never keep up with him.

The last bit of information was about Gordon. Gordon, the first prototype engine of Sir Nigel Gresley's A1 Pacifics, and that he had made sounds like a horse throughout his test runs, and had been painted an ugly brown color at the time. This, according to the Brake Van, made people believe he was a 'Galloping Sausage', an insult that was now common among sentient steam engines. However it is especially shocking to Gordon, as he was the origin of the rude comment.

In short, Diesel had learned much about the engines, but nothing to use for revenge…. But then it clicked in his head.

This was all dirt on other engines, which he didn't want to use against them yet. But what if he could make it seem like Duck was using it against them? He was hardly paying attention to the world around him as he rolled through Tidmouth Station, returning to the sheds, his mind was full of excitement. Percy had said it was quite taboo to gossip about the other Engines in front of the trucks, what if he could make it seem like Duck had done just that- passing his information on Gordon, James and Henry to the trucks and blaming it all on Duck! Diesel had to be careful, he couldn't imply he'd planned this, and he had to make sure the trucks would know to blame Duck.

"Would it work?" he wondered aloud, stopping inside his berth at Tidmouth.

"Would what work?" August asked, stepping off his footplate.

But Diesel didn't reply, lost in his thoughts, carefully thinking of what he would say to the trucks on the morrow.

[]

Skarloey heaved himself slowly down the line. Behind him trailed Sir Handel, Ruth, Agnes, Lucy, Jemima and Beatrice, each one of them grumbling about the situation. Skarloey's boiler ached to burst, and he groaned as he carefully rolled along, pulling the train at last to Crovan's Highway.

"This is all of your faults!" He called back, exasperated at the situation. "You coaches should know better than to give in to taunts, and you were ill-advised to shove your engine off the rails! You could have 'urt your passengers, and yourselves for that matter!" The coaches looked down at the passing track, uncomfortable at the scolding. Sir Handel smirked, but Skarloey could practically sense his smugness. "And you, Sir 'andel. You amaze me! You say you worked with the likes of Duke on the MSR? And this is 'ow you treat our coaches. Blimey, I 'ope you've learned a lesson."

He shook and creaked as he passed by the lake in the woods, he felt an incredibly sharp pain in the left side of his chassis, but struggled on. He'd been called out of his torpor in the Steamworks to drag the train to the end of the line, as he was the only engine left. He really should have been left, but he knew his duty, and was willing and ready to go and rescue an idiotic engine like the one behind him.

He was just reaching Crovan's Highway when *SNAP* a spring in his old frame broke and his felt himself lifted, tilted at an odd angle as he rolled up to the platform.

"L-Last stop!" He gasped, trying desperately to ignore the pain. "Every- *Gasp* Everybody off! Please!"

Sir Handel, for all his coarseness, now looked Skarloey over with worry. "Breathe easy old-timer, I'll push you back to the Steamworks." And he did.

Careful to keep his buffers away from Skarloey's exposed insides, he pushed Skarloey across the faux tracks in Crovan's Gate and left him back in Victor's care. To his astonishment, he found that the doctor engine was now Scarlet, just as the engines of the Narrow Gauge line. He quietly left the steamworks and stopped at the Narrow-Gauge sheds, just starting to be angry.

Why, why, why had he and Stuart been repainted and renamed? Why had they been stripped of their original identities and livery's?

And why was it such a big deal to him… what's in a name anyway? No, it wasn't the change in name that bothered him so. It was the fact that he was now just another crimson engine on a line of crimson engines. He'd always hated conformity, that was why he was so noticeable.

As he began to drift off to sleep, his driver walking away now that his fire was doused, he considered something. Everytime a Sentient engine made a mistake, like he today, their controller would appear shortly to reprimand them and sometimes threaten them. Because Sir Handel knew he was destined to see Sir Topham Hatt the following morning, he wondered; could he convince the Fat Controller to grant him his navy blue paint once more?

Or was his behaviour today the straw that broke the camel's back?

[]

"_57646, 57647, 65173." The Scottish Controller called. "I've got things to say to you._

"_Cannae ye' jus' call us by our names?" pleaded 57646, who preferred to be called Donald._

"_That is your name, your name on my railway." The controller replied. He shook his head as if he was speaking to a naughty child. "Now as for your place on my railway, well... " He sighed and stopped for a moment. The three engines looked at him as he sat on the rails in front of 57647's shed. "As you know, this railway has adopted many-a diesel engine recently and, unfortunately, this means we no longer have a place for you steam engines." _

_65173 nodded, but the twins quietly gasped. "Surely y' don' mean it?" 57647 asked._

"_I'm afraid that times are a-changin." the controller sighed. "But i've worked out a deal. I'll give you one month to show off. If you can either prove your place on the Caledonian Railway, or find another railway that will take you, good. Otherwise ..." His voice trailed off, and he walked away, leaving Donald, Douglas and Eagle to consider their fates. _


	37. The Deeds of Diesel

_(To all my critics and fans:_

_I'd like to acknowledge a series of reviews that I've received since posting the last chapter. A couple of you seem to want some changes to the way i've written this. First off, I'm not upset, I'm happy to take constructive criticism. Second, I am an ametur writer, i'm only a High School Senior after all. So. Here's what I got out of the things you asked for._

_1: Don't do the 'human-focused' stories like 'The Fete' chapter, and focus on one engine or relationship at a time._

_2: Work on the personalities of the characters, and try and retain their arcs from the original stories._

_3: Throw in a few original stories._

_I'll be keeping these in mind as I write, so to the reviewers, thank you and I hope I do a better job from now on! -HunterCreeper712)_

_[]_

**Chapter 37:** Part 2 of 'Diesel Trilogy'

Diesel's plan was fully formulated when he rolled out of Tidmouth sheds the following morning. He headed straight into Knapford yard and found Duck already taking the Wild Nor' Wester out to Gordon, who was waiting at the station.

Seeing Duck leave, he moved over to a few cars only for them to being singing rudely again.

"_Cars are waiting in the yard, tackling them with ease'll,_

_Show the world what I can do, laudly boasts the Diesel!"_

Diesel growled and was about to ram a salt van when another voice sounded over the chorus. "SHUT UP!" Diesel froze, and moved to get a better look at his saviour. There, roughly bashing Fred Pelhay into buffers near the back of the yard, was Duck. "You think you're funny?! You think you could get away with another song?!"

"Alright! Uncle! Uncle!" Cried the rusty orange truck.

Duck finally backed away and got a good look at Diesel's stunned face. "You're welcome." Duck said. "I'm sorry they were rude to you. These cars are bastards sometimes." Some cars laughed as Duck said a naughty word, but a quick glare from Duck silenced them.

Diesel didn't know what to say. For a moment, he thought he might even forgive Duck… but then he remembered. He remembered how it was Duck who'd made him a laughing stock among rolling stock in the first place. "It's your fault!" He snapped, his face returning to his sour glare. "You made them laugh at me!"

Duck was surprised. "Is this about the accident with the trucks when you first arrived?" He asked, appalled. "Diesel, I had no idea!"

"Just shows how naive you are!" Diesel growled, his anger returning in full swing. "You steam engines think everything is perfect and that you can do whatever you want with absolutely no consequences!" And with that, he stormed out of the yards, leaving Duck utterly confused and hurt. With too many trucks to sort out and too much on his mind, Diesel went back to Tidmouth yards.

There, he found SCRuffey sitting beside DUN, talking together and laughing rudely. "Well 'f t'isnt the Blackbird!"

Diesel halted far too quickly, throwing August around in his cab. "WHERE DID YOU LEARN THAT?!" He demanded at the top of his lungs.

The trucks around him laughed, and Diesel, red in the face, looked around. No engines were around, and the only human he could see was a child playing far away, no one had heard his real name except the trucks.

"Duck was humming it the other day and you reacted just as he said Blackbird." Dun replied in a low and rumbling voice. "It's simple."

"Err… wha' he sez!" SCRuffey agreed.

Diesel steadied his breathing and began to weave around the trucks, collecting a train of cattle cars for a farmer up the Ffarquhar line. Word spread fast among the trucks, and none dared sing 'Pop goes the Diesel', but they sniggered and blew raspberries as he passed.

He made it through the yards, and stopped once again in front of SCRuffey and DUN, who were sniggering again, but stopped when 'Blackbird' rolled up to them. "Wha'choo want Blackbir'?" SCruffey spat.

"Alright, you trucks like your jokes, eh?" Diesel said carefully. "You've made some about me, I've heard you laugh at Percy and James, but mind if I tell you one that Duck told me?" The truck leaders looked stunned. They cautiously looked at each other, and nodded. "Duck loves jokes too. He knows much about other engines, and he wanted me to pass this along to you while he goes to work on the Main line today." The trucks eagerly leaned forward as Diesel, prepared for this moment, enacted his revenge plan.

[]

A short time later, Henry was puffing by the sheds, having gone 'round the loop line. As he stopped at the water tower near the yard, the trucks burst out laughing. He glanced at Ted Brigham, who shrugged and moved to the water tower. "What are you on about?" Henry groaned.

"WE?" Laughed one truck

"We are on normal, circular wheels." replied a brake van.

"UnLiKe YoU, oLd SqUaRe WhEeLs!" Screeched a tanker.

Henry gasped. He hadn't heard that nickname since the 50's, and it brought back unpleasant memories. "Where did you hear that?" He demanded, as Ted Brigham finished with the water hose.

"A little birdy told us!" DUN replied.

Henry could only think of one bird at the moment, one which tended to go 'Quack'.

[]

James was puffing back to Tidmouth for a nap when he had a similar encounter. The trucks began laughing the second he passed, which was normal, they didn't like his red paint. But today, it seemed different. There was jeering and extra-loud chortles mixed in, and James didn't like it. "Oh buzz off!" James yelled in reply, turning on the turntable. "What rabbish are you laughing at today?"

"You, of course!" DUN called amid snorts.

"ME?!" James demanded, losing control of his voice. "What do you mean by that?! I'm a splendid red-"

"-LUMP OF RUSTY SCRAP IR'N!" SCRuffey screamed, and the trucks continued to howl with laughter. "At least, that's what we call you!"

James was speechless! He backed into his shed as the trucks screeched, and he tried to sleep but couldn't with all the noise. Geoffrey Black was only eating in the shade of the sheds, and hopped back aboard when it became too much for him to listen to.

The red engine got back onto the turntable to head to Wellsworth shed, attempting to block out the chants of 'Rusty Red Scrap Iron!' as he did.

Suddenly, they stopped. James, who'd been squeezing his eyes shut to relieve a headache, opened them to see Gordon rolling up from Tidmouth Station, glaring as the chants died. "Must I remind you of the consequences of your troublesome ways?" Gordon boomed, being one of only a few engines who could truly strike fear into the trucks.

But they weren't stopping out of fear, each sentient truck was following Gordon's movement with an evil smirk. James' turntable had stopped moving, but James was terrified of what was surely about to happen. "Gordon, they're even worse today, be ca-"

But James' warning came too late. The trucks, in one voice, screamed only two words aloud at the big blue engine. 'Galloping Sausage'.

Gordon froze, his eyes alight with fiery hatred, and he moved onto the yard entrance track. He stopped just in front of a Salt Van, who was laughing hysterically along with the rest of the trucks in Tidmouth. In a jerky movement, it appeared that Gordon was going to crush the car, but he couldn't move. "Charlie, unlock my brakes." He breathed shakily, hatred swelling within him. "Now."

"Gordon you've got to calm down." Charlie Sand said calmly, stepping out of Gordon's cab. "You're going to cause more trouble than they ever have if you try and crush them."

James was terrified. Where had the trucks learned such an insult to take Gordon to this level of anger? "Wh-where did you hear that phrase?" James asked quietly to a nearby white truck, who was merely smirking as his comrades laughed like maniacs.

"It's a common steam engine insult, mate!" The truck replied. "Som'un heard it from Duck, actually."

[]

The now-infamous Great Western engine was currently on the Main Line, with his line of slow freight stopped at Crosby. He sighed, exhausted, as three trucks were removed from his line. "How're ya holding up?" Elaine Peters, his driver, called from the cab.

"It's been a long day, m'lady." Duck replied respectfully. "I'm just in need of sleep."

"Crosby's the last stop before Knapford." Elaine reminded him. A guard's whistle blew, and Duck set off with a whistle of his own. "And after that, we're done for the night!"

A short time later, and Montague rolled through Knapford stations with rain beginning to fall, and left his cars in the graciously quiet yard beside the platforms. He should have realized the trucks were not being quiet out of kindness, but to hide their glee, but the exhausted tank engine and driver paid it no attention.

At Tidmouth station, Sir Topham Hatt stood at the platform awaiting Elaine Peters. This too should have been suspicious to Duck, but he didn't care. He let Elaine off and rolled toward the sheds without a thought against it. Lightning danced overhead, and rain pattered onto the rails. A foreboding omen that Duck further ignored, only thinking of the warm berth he was headed for.

A sudden wheesh of steam splattered Duck's face and brought him back to his senses just as he got on the turntable. "What in the world!?"

"KEEP OUT!" Roared a trio of voices, and Duck rolled off of the turntable in surprise. In front of him sat Gordon, James and Henry, each dripping with rainwater (Much to Henry's clearest annoyance) and glaring as if looks could kill.

"Stop it!" Duck snapped, and tried to move back onto the turntable, but James moved just enough to block him. "What's the meaning of this? I'm tired, let me in!"

"We're tired too!" Henry sharply replied.

"Tired of you!" James shouted over a boom of thunder.

"You rant about the 'Great western way', only to turn around and spread rumors about us to the trucks!" Gordon finished. The trucks laughter rang out from the yard, drifting to the engines on the wind. "What's the meaning of this? You blocked us out of the sheds to prove a point- now it's our turn!"

Duck gasped and backed up once more. "I did nothing of the sort! I would never spread rumors to the trucks!"

"Lies!" Gordon boomed. "You're- DISGRACEFUL!" He screamed as the sky split.

"You're Disgusting!" James agreed.

"Completely Despicable!" Henry finished, and thunder rolled with finality.

Duck was speechless, and he looked around for support. The only other engine he could see was Diesel, who appeared to be asleep in the eastern berth. Yet, Diesel was smirking, and Duck couldn't help but be suspicious. He looked to the other side and saw the bright blue car of the Fat Controller zooming up the road of Tidmouth. The big engines saw it too, and all four sat silent as Sir Topham Hatt, as well as Elaine Peters, marched across the tracks, his top hat shielding his face from the lashing rain.

The short but imposing gentleman stopped, and stood directly between Duck and James, who each backed up to allow him slightly more room. For a moment, no one spoke. Duck simply watched as Hatt looked into the faces of each of the scowling, big engines.

"Well?" He asked finally, the rain pounding the group. "What is it this time?"

"Duck called me Rusty Red Scrap Iron, and told the trucks!" James wailed, as if he'd been mortally wounded ('If only he had', Duck thought.)

"He told them about Alan's nickname for me, 'Old Square Wheels!" Henry moaned. ('Who in the world is Alan?')

Gordon couldn't look anyone in the eye as Topham turned to him, waiting for whatever had insulted the Express engine. "He- He told them… They called me… A Galloping Sausage." He slowly said, as if trying to suppress utter rage. (Not an extreme insult…)

Sir Topham Hatt nodded, knowing where each nickname originated from and wondering how Duck could possibly have learned each one. "Alright. Explain this, Duck."

Duck looked at Hatt in confusion. "I didn't- I-... I only wish sir…" He stopped.

"Yes?"

"I only wish I'd thought of them myself." Duck replied darkly, looking up entirely now at his accusers. "If the dome fits." He said with deliberation.

"He told the trucks these names to make them laugh at us!" Henry stated.

"I did not!" Duck retorted. "I just said I wish I had thought of it, because I didn't! No engine- No Great Western- NO STEAM ENGINE would ever be as mean as that! What reason would I have to-" Duck stopped, realizing what he'd said a moment ago. 'No steam engine?' Not all present were steam engines, now were they?

The Fat Controller had caught this too, and now looked to the last occupied shed. "DIESEL!" he shouted over the wind and rain. "DIESEL, NOW!"

The boxy black engine stirred and rolled his eyes open, a scowl replacing the smirk on his face as he rolled into the lashing rain and flaring thunder. "Yes, Sir?"

"You heard what Duck said, however racist it may have sounded." Hatt sternly told him. "Can you explain this?"

But Diesel was prepared for a confrontation such as this. "I can't understand it sir! I'm dreadfully grieved, but I know nothing!" This was followed by a clap of thunder that masked the chuckles of the trucks in Knapford yard, who were silenced by a quick-thinking DUN just as fast.

"I see." Hatt said, with a voice that indicated that he really did 'see' the situation. Diesel squirmed and hoped Hatt hadn't caught on. Nodding, he turned to Elaine, who'd been watching the confrontation from a few meters away. He waved to tell her to hop aboard Duck, and then turned to said engine. "Alright Duck. I think it's best if, for the time being, you go to Edward's line now- Brendam Yards is in need of a good yard worker like yourself."

Duck, having given up on the situation, only nodded and scooted backwards onto the loop line, before disappearing out of view from the four engines and the controller. Hatt suddenly turned on his heel to face the foursome, who forcibly backed up in shock. "I hope you're happy creating Hell on my railway! I'm going to get to the bottom of this!" He declared, and stormed through the storm back to his car.

In stunned silence, the three big engines each rolled back into their berths (Henry was quicker, despising the rain) and looked at one another uneasily, before each in turn falling asleep. Blackbird the diesel, however, remained in the cold weather and chuckled to himself. The deed was done, and he'd succeeded. Duck was out of his way and the other engines now thought him good. Diesel-kind could move in permanently, and Sodor would soon be just another modern railway.

The rolling thunder overhead made him think once more of his homeland, the city of Barrow-in-Furness, where his allies and leader awaited his starting gun. Collecting himself, he moved into Tidmouth yards and smiled approvingly to the trucks, who laughed in triumph. Blackbird had won the battle, and Diesel would win the war.

[]

Knapford Tavern was a tense that night. Elaine Peters sat separate from the driver's usual table, dodging questions from Charlie Sand, Geoffrey Black and Ted Brigham about the events of the day. Bob Hardy sat with the three drivers, who were unsure whether to be angry alongside their engines, or try and solve the real situation.

"It's clear that Duck didn't do it, isn't it?" Bob said, setting his sandwich on the table as Geoff came back from another failed attempt at asking Elaine. "Duck was too confused and Elaine has no idea when he could have talked to the trucks about this!"

"Then who did it?" Ted demanded. "It wasn't Thomas, Percy doesn't know these nicknames, Toby is not the kind of engine for it, Edward would never even think about it, and Diesel is too new to know about this!"

"Duck has means of getting information, is an old engine, and has worked on the BR with similar trucks and similar engines." Charlie listed on his fingers. "Duck is a prime suspect if it weren't for the fact that he has no idea what's happened!"

"Exactly." Came another voice from nearby. "Duck is supposed to be the prime suspect, it's supposed to look like his fault."

Charlie, Geoffrey, Ted and Bob all turned to see, at another table over, August Harvey, sitting alone and drinking a strong whiskey. He had a black leather jacket on over his work clothes, and looked over at them as they turned. "What do you mean 'supposed to be'?" Geoff asked.

August sighed and stood up, finishing his drink before walking over to the driver's table and taking the last open seat. "I don't quite know how to explain the situation. It's complicated." He looked over to Elaine, who was looking back, interested. "C'mere, you'll want to hear this."

[]

_TO BE CONCLUDED IN _"The Defeat of Diesel"

[]

_(A question I honestly have about the original stories was always this, Why didn't Diesel's Driver just explain the situation to Hatt? Why didn't Duck's driver vouch for the fact that Duck wasn't responsible for the insults?_

_So, I decided to answer my own question, and I'm loving the way i've written this good old trilogy._

_Anyway, i'm looking at fitting 2-3 stories before the final part of this saga, so bear with me. Hope you all enjoyed!_

_-HC712)_


	38. Through Edward's Eyes

**Chapter 38:**

Edward awoke slowly on the chilly October morning. Ivo Hugh was quickly stoking his fire, but hopped out and moved to his newest neighbor, Duck.

The Great Western had moved in the night before last in disgrace, something to do with a truck problem that led Gordon, Henry and James to kick him out of Tidmouth sheds. Duck, who usually made snide comments about engine sentience, or bossed trucks into a proper order, had been quite silent since coming to the Brendam Branch line- Edward had only found out why Duck had moved when Elaine told Sidney.

As soon as Duck was awake and ready, Ivo dashed away to his car to hurry to Ffarquhar. 'Poor bloke'. Edward thought. 'Hatt ought to get him a partner so he needn't rush around so.'

Edward looked back at Duck, who was nodding back to sleep. "Good morning Montague!" Edward said cheerfully, attempting to keep him awake.

"M'rnin'." Duck mumbled, stirring a little more.

"It's an easy day for us today." Edward continued. "I've got a big passenger train from the docks to Knapford, but you can take the smaller freight trains."

"That'd be nice." Duck sighed. He hadn't been pulling trains since he'd come to the branch line, but had organized the yards perfectly. "Nothing heavy?"

"Shouldn't be trouble for an engine like you, Great Western." Edward added kindly.

"Great Western. Great Western- is that all I am to this line?" Duck demanded suddenly. "Why is all my good attached to my heritage? Why can't I be a Great Sudrian?"

Duck moved further back into the shed and out of Edward's limited view, and Edward was left confused. Days ago, Duck wouldn't have paid attention to being called after his homeland, but he'd become moody and depressed since being kicked out- a feature Edward had been desperately trying to shake from him.

"I meant no offence." Edward finally called back. "What happened to the Great Western Way?"

There was no response, and Edward sat pondering his own question till Sidney came. What had happened to the Great Western Way? But more importantly: what had happened to the Great Western?

[]

Brendam Docks, though not nearly as trafficked or large as Knapford Harbour, is still a well-used dropping-off point for passenger ships. Edward didn't take many passenger trains on his branchline, but Brendam Docks could get busy on holidays and, with Halloween approaching on an island famous for its celebrations, Hatt had begun changing the time tables to reflect the potential increase.

Brendam no longer had a station- after the South Sodor Railway had shut down and the A. section of the dock had been bought, there was no need for it. A pair of tracks ran down the center of the dock for trains to pick up passengers directly from the ships instead. Edward sat on the right track today, waiting as passengers unloaded in the salty wind. Bill and Ben were shoving trucks full of clay into a loading zone near 'Percival's Pier'- the one which Percy had rolled off of not too long ago -and were singing a ridiculous song at the top of their lungs.

"Augh! I need glasses!" Sidney grumbled, sitting on Edward's footplate and rubbing his eyes.

"What for?" Edward asked.

"For my eyes, brilliant one!" Sidney retorted and laughed. Edward rolled his eyes. "I just mistook the twins for a pair of bees on your buffers!"

Edward laughed aloud at this. "Bill and Ben- Bees on my Buffers?" He asked loudly. "They certainly remind me of such bugs- they buzz everywhere and annoy workers!"

"Didja here that Ben?" Bill shrieked, nearing the blue number 2.

"Loud and clear Bill!" Ben replied, glowering.

"Now lis'en here-" Bill snapped, but Edward just smiled knowingly. "We may buzz a bit-"

"We may have a bit of a noisy hive in the pits-"

"We migh' even annoy the workmen-

"Maybe we even sting the trucks a tad-"

"But where do you ge' such nerve?"

"Calling us yello' stripers?"

"Calling us _bees?_"

Edward and Sidney laughed hard at this, ignoring a guard's whistle as they heartily laughed at the stunned and ranting twin engines before them.

"Do I have Honey coming out me tender?"

"Do I have freaky li''le feelers?"

"Do I have wings?"

"Cor I'd love to have wings…."

"Shut up Bill, ya're missin' th' point!"

But it was too late to continue. Edward blew his whistle and rolled forward. The twins scooted out of his way as he wheeshed heavy steam at them and set off up the branch line.

"Blast him, e's so rude!" Bill grumbled.

"Calls us bees! Puffs away from us!" Ben exclaimed.

Another whistle peeped just out of sight, and Bill and Ben's eyes lit up as they recalled, they had a new victim on the branch line. Duck the Disgraced rolled along the opposite edge of the dock just then, tugging away a trash-truck line. The Bees smiled evilly, it was time for some mischief.

[]

Edward was now on the mainline, puffing cheerfully. Leaves danced across the tracks as he went, and crunched beneath his thundering wheels. The coaches hummed a sort of lullaby as they reached Crosby. James was already there with another passenger train, blowing several orange leaves off of his bufferbeam. "Good day Edward!" He called between puffs. "How are you?"

"Just fine, can't say the same for Duck though." Edward said, not hesitating to bring up the subject. "Am I allowed to ask-"

"THE BLOODY- THAT ENGINE-" James spluttered and screamed in rage, before finally steadying his breathing enough to speak, having frightened everybody on the platform. "That dirty engine went about the trucks spreading lies, nicknames and general disgraces among them! Gave Gordon, Henry and I each a terrible taunting nickname!"

"And what did he call you?" Edward probed. "What nickname could possibly harm you more than you already have. It's not as if you didn't bring it upon yourself."

"Shut it!" James snapped. "He told the trucks my paint was rust! Called me a 'Rusty Red Lump of Scrap Iron' he did!"

"Hm. I can't imagine." Edward quietly snickered. The guard on his coaches blew his whistle, and Edward puffed off, leaving the fuming red engine in his anger.

"I've heard bits of it from the guys at the Tavern." Sidney told Edward as they passed the town of Crosby. "Apparently Duck based the nickname on when you rescued him from his sleep-puffing runaway trip."

"How could Duck know about that? He wasn't on the island yet!" Edward exclaimed.

"According to Gordon and Charlie, he must have heard it from the trucks." Sidney replied. "But that makes no sense either- why didn't the trucks just insult James if they knew the story?"

"The trucks wouldn't be creative enough." Edward replied. "The way we keep hearing the story, there must be a mastermind behind the trucks. Someone who organized the insulting stories and gave them ammo out of them."

"And that brings us back to Duck." Sidney sighed. Sidney, while often in the tavern and had heard the facts of the story (The insults, the blame, the retaliation) he hadn't heard August Harvey's input yet, leaving him just as clueless as Edward.

And with these thoughts swimming about their heads, they pulled into Knapford where Thomas and Henry sat discussing the very same matter. "I don't care what the trucks said, why do you blame Duck?" Thomas very pointedly shouted.

"This isn't the kind of things the trucks would lie about!" Henry responded just as loud and pointed. "And there's no one else to blame!"

"Oh please, Duck is as much a suspect as I am!" Thomas replied snappily, then turned to Edward. "Can you believe these gits?"

"Unfortunately, I think all of you are unbelievable gits." Edward laughed.

"Now really Edward!" Boomed another voice. "Surely Toby is alright?" Sir Topham Hatt laughed, approaching the 1, 2 and 3 of his railway.

"Alright, I can believe Toby." Edward replied. "But sir, what do you say of the whole situation?"

"I've resolved to keep opinions at bay and search for the facts on the matter." The Fat Controller replied solemnly. "As it stands, all I know for certain is that the trucks give credit to Duck for their fresh wave of insults, and that Duck should- for his own safety probably- stay away from the insulted engines." He glared at Henry when he said this, and Henry looked away, looking somehow both angry and sheepish.

"Sounds to me like ya need a prop'a investigat'in!" Said a heavily accented and excited voice from Edward's coaches. Out stepped a tall, skinny man with a brown fedora and overcoat draped across him, a notebook and pencil in hand and a toothy and mischievous grin plastered to his face. "Jerry Jingle, we've met be'fa're sir?"

"Yes, I regret to remember you." Sir Hatt said coldly.

"Well tha's not ver'a nice." Jingle laughed. "Anysway, as I sez, you need an investigat'ar to find out th' facts! I can be your man Topham!"

"SIR Topham HATT to you!" Shouted the three engines simultaneously.

"Er, right." Jingle shivered. "Now, for a low price of-"

"Goodbye Mr. Jingle." Hatt turned his back quickly at the mention of a price. "Can't say it's been a pleasure."

"But wait Sir!" Jerry Jingle rushed off after Hatt, leaving the three steaming engines waiting on the platform.

[]

A short time later, Edward was back at the platform preparing for the return trip. Thomas and Henry now a distance away, Toby instead sat at the platform, unloading Henrietta of her passengers from the Harbour. "Good afternoon old boy!" He called cheerfully as Edward approached. "How's it going on your end of the island?"

"Well, not so cheerful to be honest." Edward replied tiredly. "Duck's been moody since he came, and extra work just makes Bill and Ben harder to handle."

"You know, Duck's in a bit of a suspicious situation." Toby mused. "I'm sure you've thought the same?"

"I think everyone but the big engines have." Edward agreed. "Even Hatt is confused!"

"That's just it though- haven't you considered Diesel?" Toby asked, his eyes glittering in excitement.

Edward was surprised! In all honesty, he'd forgotten the Diesel was even on Sodor. "And what do you mean by that?" He asked, trying but struggling to work Diesel into the picture.

"Has no one considered that Diesel may be the real culprit?"

Edward shook his head in disbelief. "The nicknames and insults come from long past stories and accidents. Diesel couldn't have known about Alan's nickname for Henry, or about my chase after James!"

"That's just it though! Duck wasn't around either!"

"They say he got his information from the trucks."

"Come off it!" Toby chuckled at this and rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Duck beats up trucks and keeps them in line, when would they be telling him willy-nilly about old accidents? But and engine like Diesel, who they've conversed with before, that's a suspect right there."

Edward considered this. "This isn't just racism?" He asked, just to be sure.

Toby got very annoyed at this and lost his glee entirely. "I'm a Tram, you want to ask me about racism again?" Henrietta snickered and Edward stuttered an apology. "It's not Racism, there's more to it."

Crovan Alderich leaned out of Toby's cab. "August Harvey, Diesel's driver, told the drivers at the tavern that Diesel had been talking an awful lot to the trucks, and seemed to be happy with Duck gone!"

Edward moved forward just slightly. Toby smirked: "Why couldn't he be-"

But Toby's hypothesis was cut off by a loud 'Ahem' from across the platform. The very same engine was rolling through, pulling a load of trucks and nearly hit Edward as he scooted closer. "Pardon." he said shortly, but called back a "Thank you." when Edward backed up properly.

The two engines waited until the newcomer was out of sight before resuming. "He seems nice enough though…" Edward sighed. "Could he really be the con artist behind Duck's disgrace?"

"I can hardly believe it myself, but this is much more believable, isn't it?" Toby excitedly added.

Edward nodded, and the guard finally blew his whistle for both trains to depart. "Listen quick Toby, you keep an eye on Diesel whenever you can, I'll talk to Duck tonight."

"Goodbye Edward!" Toby rang his bell and turned up the junction to the Ffarquhar line, and Edward continued steady on the main line.

[]

When Edward returned to Brendam late that night, his last trips finished long after his passenger train from earlier, Duck was there, and staring across the distant sea into the horizon. "Do the twins often give you Hell?" The green engine asked.

"They're not too much to handle, what did they do to you today?" Edward asked, suddenly worried as he remembered he hadn't seen them since the 'bees' discussion that morning.

"Not much. Just rearranged the entire yard while my back was turned and blocked up Percival Pier." Duck replied, his zoned-out gaze unchanging.

"That's about normal." Edward replied with a chuckle. Duck didn't laugh though, only continued to stare across the dock at the ocean. "Hey, are you alright?"

Duck did not answer immediately, but sighed and finally looked at Edward. "Do you ever wish you weren't confined to these rails? Like, if you were a boat say, and you could just drift on the open waters for days on end?"

Edward pondered the question. "Run away from all your problems- live in solace with nothing but the waves and clouds changing around?"

Duck sighed. "You know it wasn't me. I didn't tell those names to the trucks. If I wanted to insult the big engines I wouldn't have been nearly that creative, and i'd be more direct- tell it straight to their ugly, stupid faces." His words became sharper and his face harder as he finished the sentence, clearly thinking of the many things he could say to them.

"Attacking them with harsh words would only worsen your situation now." Edward calmly explained. "They'd just take it as proof that you came up with the trucks chants and that'd be a bigger problem." Duck's gaze returned to the sea, and Edward followed out. The calm lapping of the water against the solid quay was peaceful, and Edward found his head swimming with exhaustion, but he had to tell Duck one more thing. "A wise man once said; 'Do unto others as you would have done unto you.' I suggest you keep this in mind in the coming days, despite anything else you hear."

"Jesus Christ said that." Duck nodded. "You got that from the bible. Does this make you a religious character?"

Edward, in an odd motion that was the best an engine could do to represent such a move, shrugged. "I have no idea what god would create living trains, but I try not to think too hard about that. Sidney, on the other hand, _is_ a religious character, so it rubs off on me a bit."

"What- does he quote the bible to you to help you sleep?" Duck asked, finally cracking a slight smile.

Edward closed his eyes. "No. But I hear a thing or two around him." The seaside sounds swirled as his brain drifted off into sleep.

Duck lay awake for a moment longer, considering Edward's last bit of wisdom. He knew he hadn't been himself since the argument, he needed to pull himself back together. And at that, he too fell asleep to his favorite noise- the rolling ocean water.

[]

_(Howdy. So it occurs to me this- some of you have asked for a few original stories to be added to the originals, does this chapter count? This is basically all original, except it's really just explanation and filler between the last and upcoming chapters. And this isn't the first time i've done a chapter like this either._

_But if you don't like this as my 'original stories', don't worry, I've got a few tricks up my sleeve._

_-HC712)_


	39. The Scarlet Railway

**Chapter 39:**

Sir Topham Hatt stepped off of Crovan's Gate platform and admired the work. The station had been remodeled heavily, and now connected to the Skarloey railway. Rails had been built from the yards and beyond Crovan's Highway, and now the platform was one for the Skarloey Railway and the NWR. Crovan's Highway was being torn down as he stood, and rails had been laid beyond the station, leading into the Works. Smiling, the Fat Controller watched as James and Peter Sam each stopped at the station, timed perfectly for an easy exchange of passengers.

"Good mornin' Sir!" Peter Sam called. "The station is wonderful! Can you work on the sheds now please?"

"There's a time and a place for that now, Peter Sam." Sir Topham Hatt replied. "I'm bringing one more engine onto your line to clean up the railway. The tracks need repaired and the yards restored, I'm afraid I'll have to call in a Diesel to do it all."

"A Diesel sir?" Peter Sam asked, surprised. "Do they make Diesels my size?"

"Another Diesel on the island sir?" James laughed. "Can you handle the racism again?"

"You're one to talk…" Hatt grumbled, still fighting to allow Duck back on the Main line. But that was a separate problem. Ignoring James, he turned back to Peter Sam. "Yes, and a repairs engine is just what this line needs!" He declared, and then hopped aboard Peter Sam's coaches as they puffed away.

[]

On the Skarloey Railway, the past decades of traffic have been majorly two types. First was the passengers. Tourists enjoying the skarloey and the mountain sights, islanders heading to work and home each day, and holidaymakers there for a spell all rode the little engines up to Culdee Fells and back each day.

The other type of traffic was the quarry work. A slate quarry at the base of the Culdee Fells had kept the line in good standings for a long time, being their biggest source of income for several years following WWII. The place was old and run-down, and in need of some work itself, but for today it would stand, and was currently loading up an impatient Sir Handel with his load due for Vicarstown Yards.

"Hurry up! Hurry up!" He grumbled. "I've got to talk to Hatt!" He stormed out of the yards, biffing the trucks as he did, making them grumble but nothing more.

He reached Vicarstown in good time and searched everywhere for sign of the Fat Controller, but to no avail. Angrily muttering, he stormed back down the line, only stopping at Glennock for water.

Hatt had only spoken to Sir Handel once since the rude engine been repainted the horrible red of the Skarloey Railway, and it had been to reprimand him for his behaviour with the wretched coaches. Sir Handel hadn't had a chance to ask for his proper paint color back. He'd been searching for Hatt since that day, nearly a week ago now, but some trouble on the standard-gauge line had been keeping him away. (See: Diesel)

But when Sir Handel returned to the Quarry, he found a surprise. A helicopter was sitting on a rock face near the tracks, whistling merrily as Sir Handel rolled in. "'ello chappy!" the helicopter said, towering over the little engine. "M'name's 'arold. 'Arold the 'elicopter. Tha' starts with an 'H' forgive me accent."

"Afternoon." Sir Handel grumbled and moved over to where another load of slate cars sat waiting.

"You don' look too 'appy. Somethin' in ya' coal?" Harold asked. Sir Handel rolled his eyes and continued to work, ignoring the Helicopter entirely. "Or is it tha' weather? I like this fall breeze but ta' each 'is own."

"If you must know," Sir Handel finally snapped. "I don't like the colour of my paint, that's what's wrong." Harold laughed and Sir Handel snarled. "You think that's funny?"

"'Course 'ah do," Harold replied, giggling stupidly. "All ov'a Britain, otha' railways paint their engines Uniform. They all's is pain'ed the same colour or set o' colours. But I get's 'ere and tha' one railway I see doin' things right-" Harold guffawed again. "-is where tha' complainin' is!"

"My name is Falcon of the Mid-Sodor Railway!" Sir Handel roared. "My Navy Blue paint once stood for my cunning, my namesake bird, I was the powerhouse of the MSR!" Harold wasn't laughing now, but somewhat surprised at Sir Handel's rampant shouts. "The Falcon of the line, now disgraced to this horrible Scarlet, re-christened with the name of the previous controller who never did any good for his railway!"

Sir Handel was on the edge of tears of anger, and he quickly steamed past the white helicopter with his slate cars and disappeared down the mountainside. Harold sat uncomfortable for a moment, then took off gradually, headed for Dryaw airfield.

[]

Sir Handel came to the shed late that night. Peter Sam was already fast asleep, but Sir Handel was too tired to care. He puffed into his berth and closed his eyes, only to hear a cough beside him. He opened his eyes to see Skarloey rolling into the shed beside his, squeaking only slightly as he slowly stopped. "Evenin' boyo." He whispered cheerfully. "I've been repaired fully!"

"Ah. Good." Sir Handel didn't have much more to say than that.

Skarloey's driver stepped away, and with a last little whoosh of steam, Skarloey settled down. Sir Handel was just closing his eyes again when Skarloey whispered: "So tell me about Duke."

His eyes popped open again in surprise. "Duke?"

"Yes, my personal hero!" Skarloey smiled. "Duke visited our little line briefly back in the day, I always admired him. Stories about him and even you two-" He nodded at Sir Handel and then Peter Sam- "-reached our line every now and then, can you tell me more?"

Sir Handel sighed and looked at the stars, he tried to recall a story worth telling the old engine, but nothing came as his weary mind swam. "I- I suppose another night old timer, but I've got to sleep tonight."

"Of course, I'm sorry." Skarloey quickly said, looking away. Sir Handel could tell he'd upset him, but he really was barely staying awake as it was.

Sir Handel fell asleep to the sound of the wind and dying leaves, while Skarloey hummed a little tune beside him.

[]

The next morning, Skarloey returned to work. Peter Sam had begun good work with the coaches, and Sir Handel was working fine in the yards, so Skarloey rolled around as an extra engine- taking whatever was needed, whether coaches or freight.

The view from the quarry was a high one, and Sir Handel could see for miles while up there. Far above on Mount Anopha, Harold the Helicopter was seen hovering, and the engine he knew as Henry could be caught rushing down the main line, with a long line of freight cars behind him.

A Biplane zoomed past his funnel as Sir Handel started rolling back down the mountain. He stopped at Skarloey Station to take on coal and was hardly paying attention when he heard wheels rolling up the line to meet him. He looked up, expecting to see Skarloey or Peter Sam, but was shocked to discover it was neither, but a little Black Diesel with a square face and boxy body, who also stopped at the station. it gently blew his horn, then looked at Sir Handel, who must have been gaping because the Diesel laughed at the sight of him.

"Good morning." the Diesel said. "I'm Rusty, and you?"

Sir Handel shook out of his stupor. "Uh- Sir Handel, I'm taking this load of slate to Vicarstown."

"Vicarstown is a very nice place." Rusty said, but with a far-off tone of voice that seemed to indicate their mind was elsewhere. "Just came from there, your controller bought me to help clean up this line, Goodness knows it needs it."

Sir Handel tilted his head, but had no time to think as his driver hopped aboard again and unlocked his brake. "Well, Goodbye Rusty. I suppose we'll meet again?"

"Yes, I suppose." Rusty replied, still paying almost no attention to him. Sir Handel rolled his eyes and steamed away, utterly confused. Rusty's face looked quite male, and Female engines were quite rare, but Rusty had a very high voice that sounded Feminine. Was Rusty a boy or a girl?

[]

It was late again before Sir Handel would meet another engine, and Godred knew he was tired. He was just pulling into the yard when he noticed how much cleaner it all looked. Much of the overgrown shrubbery was cleared from the tracks, the metal track was shining and smooth, and the uneven sleepers had been adjusted to even the ground.

"Ah, Sir Handel!" Boomed a voice from a signal box near the sheds. Sir Topham Hatt bounded down the stairs and walked alongside the very slowly moving engine. "Enjoying the repaired yards? I set Rusty to it this morning and well, you can see how well Rusty's done for us!"

"Indeed." Sir Handel said quietly, as though he was trying to hide his approval.

Topham grabbed hold of the cab and pulled his round body up as Sir Handel sped up to approach the sheds. Crovan's Gate sheds had previously been four berths wide- the perfect number for the current number of engines on the line. Rusty, Peter Sam and Skarloey sat talking as Sir Handel rolled into the last berth, but two more were being built on either end of the building. "I don't understand, are we to have more engines?" Skarloey asked the Fat Controller as he stepped off of Sir Handel's footplate.

"Well, I already needed to build a fifth shed for when Rheneas returns -and he will-" Topham smiled at the old engine, who beamed. "-But I plan on expanding this line. More goods traffic, extend it up through the Culdee Fells perhaps, maybe run it all the way to Ffarquhar to transfer goods to my engines there!"

"And so you want more engines!" Peter Sam exclaimed. "How many more?"

Hatt laughed. "We'll have to wait and see. Only time will tell us that!"

Sir Handel looked around. Of the four engines present, three were painted the same red colour. Only Rusty stood out with black paint instead. Sir Handel recalled that Rheneas was also painted crimson, and that was when he decided to finally appeal to the controller of the railway. "Sir?" He asked hesitantly.

"Yes?"

"I was wondering, you see- I mean I had hoped-" Sir Handel faltered, worried that his behaviour hadn't been enough to merit his demand.

"Something to do with restoring you to your original name or colour?" Topham asked with a knowing smile. Sir Handel jumped in surprise, and Hatt laughed. "Harold the Helicopter is quite a talker, and he was saying he felt bad about your conversation the other day."

Sir Handel nodded, and looked to Peter Sam, who smiled and nodded as well. "I'd like to be blue again." He finally asked.

"And we shall see." Hatt replied firmly, which was a much more hopeful answer than Sir Handel had expected. "I'd like a little more effort out of you before I do you any favors."

"What about me?" Peter Sam asked. "Shall I be returned to my proper color?"

"If I repaint Falc- Sir Handel, I'll repaint you as well." Hatt agreed.

"Mm? Paint?" Rusty quietly said, as if they'd only just walked in on the conversation. "Should I be painted another colour sir?"

"Perhaps." Hatt said with finality. "Now, another busy day tomorrow, so you should all-"

"Can I be purple like Lady? Or perhaps Yellow, like Proteus?" Rusty quietly asked, looking far off the horizon but speaking directly to Hatt.

"What?!" gasped Skarloey, Sir Handel, Peter Sam and Topham all at once.

"You know of Lady and Proteus?" Peter Sam demanded.

"How dare you-!" Sir Handel spluttered. "A Diesel should NEVER-"

"Silence!" Hatt roared over the other engines, and they obeyed. Hatt looked calmly at Rusty, who didn't seem to notice they'd caused an uproar. "What about Lady and Proteus?"

"Lady, the lost engine and her aide, Proteus of the Magic Lamp." Rusty replied nonchalantly. "Lady, who was the first sentient engine- the mother engine- bestowed her magic on the tracks and granted life to trains for years to come. Aided by Proteus, whom she'd once granted him a lamp that would grant wishes. They made sure steam-kind lived and prospered across the world until they died. Then my race started taking over your jobs and leaving steam engines to die, which I strongly disagree with."

Rusty finally looked straight at Hatt. "They were Sudrian, I know. Where are they now?"

[]

_(Lol Bombshell there much? Oh yeah, that's where I'm ending this particular story. We'll come back to this later._

_So this is again a bit of an 'original plot dump' like the previous one. Next time I'll get back into the classic Awdry stories with some fun back on the Ffarquhar line, but let me talk for just a minute._

_Do not, I repeat, do not suggest anything on my origins of Lady and Proteus here. This is only their second mention each, I haven't expositited enough to credit complaint. Magic Railroad is a story for a later day, today i'm just setting it all up._

_Also, am I doing the Skarloey railway justice? Am I getting the characters right? I'm happy to hear suggestions but I warn you, I won't necessarily implement them._

_Thank you to yall to reading, hope you enjoy this as much as I do!_

_-HunterCreeper712)_


	40. Ffarquhar from Home (Fixed)

**Chapter 40:**

The crisp air of October blew down the line as Toby awoke. He smelled the mist off of Mt. Anopha and looked up as snow was peacefully settling at its peak.

Ffarquhar sheds were empty already save the old tram. Toby had worked harder than normal yesterday and was allowed an extra hour of sleep this morning. 'Course the extra hour of sleep would have been much more relaxing if Crovan Alderich hadn't been shoving a comically-oversized toothbrush in his mouth in an attempt to clean out his smokebox.

"I guess that's the best we can do today." Crovan sighed, rinsing the bristles of the brush with the hose from the nearby water tower. "It's an easy day for us today Toby. A few runs to the quarry and Harbour and that's that."

"Good." Henrietta yawned from her place in the yards. "I like an easy day."

[]

Meanwhile, at Dryaw station, Percy was attempting to ignore Harold the Helicopter again, waiting for a rowdy Sunday School group to re-board Annie and Clarabel after a long bathroom stop.

"And why 'ave you got Thomas's coaches t'day?" Harold asked, praying for some attention.

Percy sighed, unable to wiggle out of the question but feeling quite awkward. "First of all, they're not _Thomas's _coaches, Thomas just happens to pull them often." Annie and Clarabel murmured agreement from behind Percy. "And second off, Thomas is busy today with a lot of freight trains and-"

"Oh please Percy." Annie sharply interrupted.

"Thomas is being cleaned after you dumped another hoppers worth of coal on his boiler." Clarabel explained.

Harold roared with laughter, and Percy was glad to hear the conductor's whistle blow for him to set off.

"Careful out there Percy, the weatha's due ta turn today." Harold called after the caterpillar engine. "There's bad rain due!" But Percy was far away already, doing his best to ignore all of Harold's advice. "Both'a that engine. I'll proba'ly haf'ta rescue him."

Shortly after this, Toby came down the line, his coach and a few trucks behind him, ringing his bell joyfully and humming as he stopped at the station to fill up with water. "Hullo Harold." He said cheerfully.

"Good Mornin' Toby!" Harold replied as brightly as he could. "And where's your rails takin' you t'day, mm?"

"Up and down the Branchline, where else can I go?" Toby retorted with a laugh. "How are you?"

"Splendid as James." Harold replied

"Oh, I'm sorry." Henrietta replied with a voice of pure sarcasm. The group laughed, and Crovan nearly fell off of Toby's roof. "Now now, even James can have a good day, let's be nice." Henrietta added between snorts.

"Beautiful dear, that was a good one." Toby told her.

"An'a'ways. Ya seen much of that Diesel? 'Eard 'e's been causin' trouble on the main line!" Harold said, his smile unfaltering.

Toby however, stopped smiling as he was reminded of his mission from Edward. "About that…"Toby began, but Crovan hopped back into his cab and Toby was cut off by his own bell being rung by Crovan. "Never mind. Keep an eye on him though, will you?" Toby asked, steaming up and preparing to leave.

"Uh… I'll do me best?" Harold replied uncertainty.

"Thank you! Goodbye!" Henrietta called for Toby as they pulled away from the station and airfield.

[]

Down by the Harbour, Percy was sitting on the tracks along the beachfront. He'd been specially reserved today by the Vicar of Hackenbeck to take him and his Sunday school to the beach on a short trip. The Children played in the sand off of the quay, where it was safe for them in the shallow water and sunshine.

"I never did go to Sunday school." Neil admitted, leaning against Percy's buffers and watching the fun on the beach. "Skipped it all the time, Me mum didn't care." He waved his hand nonchalantly.

"What about your father?" Percy asked.

"Pshaw." Neil spat. "My father didn't give a damn about me or me sister. Barely was around and when he was, he was drunk and asleep. Died a few years back- but I don't mourn him."

Percy, who had never had this sort of conversation with his driver, suddenly felt quite sorry for Neil. "I didn't know you had a sister."

"She moved somewhere in France and married a jerk there." Neil replied with the same tone he had when describing his parents. "My mum went with her and that's the last time I've seen them for years."

Percy slightly nodded. "I don't know my siblings." He said.

Neil laughed, then caught sight of Percy's solemn face. "Wait, engines have siblings?"

"Most do. Any engine of our same class is considered a sibling, and some engines will call each other brother and sister."

"So, any E2 tank engine is Thomas's sibling? Any A1 Pacific is Gordon's sibling?"

"Exactly… but seeing as I've been rebuilt so many times and lost parts of my memory, I don't know who my siblings are."

Neil patted Percy's buffer, finding a new connection to his engine he didn't previously know. As Engine and Driver sat watching the children play, both found themselves wondering of their past.

[]

"There's still coal in my funnel Victor!"

"Hold still Thomas! The workers are trying- what are you doing? No! DONT-

*whoosh*

*Ping*

*CLANK*

*BANG*

"Ah, there's no coal in my funnel now Victor! …Victor? Are you ok?"

"You knocked him out Thomas."

"What just happened?!"

"You launched the wedged coal out of your smokebox and it ricocheted into Victor"

"...His eye doesn't look so good."

[]

Rolling up the rocky hillside, Toby's journey to Anopha Quarry was nearly over. With a heave, he rolled into the quarry and searched for any sign of the resident Diesel, but to no avail.

"Just get your trucks and get out!" Shouted a foreman as Toby sat looking around the yard.

"Easy there!" Toby glared back, but puffed forward anyway.

Usually, his trucks sat on a siding just off the entrance, to be coupled to quickly and taken away. But today, no trucks sat on the siding, but several were scattered between two tracks a little ways into the yard. "Well, we best hurry and gather them, I wonder why they're over here?" Toby wondered aloud.

"Youngster wants to get out of a little work maybe." Crovan replied cynically.

Toby made no complaint as he arranged the cars and ran around to the front, but he could swear that somewhere, a little ways into the Quarry, he could hear a snicker as he finally set off back down the mountain.

"Finally! What took you so long?" Henrietta demanded when they returned to Ffarquhar station later than scheduled.

"The trucks were scattered, Mavis hadn't bothered putting them in the right place." Toby explained. "Funny enough, I suspect it was on purpose."

"Well the poor gal has a reason against you." Henrietta reminded him.

"No she doesn't!" Toby snapped, finally becoming annoyed with the situation. "She didn't hear the whole conversation, and won't let me explain what happened!"

Crovan sighed and stepped right into Toby's line of sight. "But if you'd heard racism about any, ANY other tram, wouldn't you feel the same?"

It dawned on Toby that his driver was right. Racism came from many sources around Trams, and Toby was highly defensive of his dying race anytime something like this happened. Wasn't Mavis in the right to be offended by racism at her race, whether it was directed specifically to her or not?

To be fair, Diesels had started the problem. Diesels were infamous for racism and supremacy, but since when did two wrongs ever make a right?

Toby suddenly looked up. Lost in thought, he hadn't noticed the storm billowing around him till the rain began to spit upon him. Shaking the water off as Crovan built up steam, he rang his bell and set down the line, still pondering his own faults.

[]

"Everybody aboard quickly!" Neil cried, shepherding the Sunday School into the coaches. The children ran and ducked into Annie and Clarabel while the rain poured down from the sky.

"Bother, I thought we'd be back before the rain!" Percy grumbled, his grey skin going quite cold.

The guard blew his whistle and jumped aboard the brake van, and Percy struggled to get moving as the rain made the tracks slippery. Soon, Neil was dumping sand as they chugged along a hilly side-line back to the Harbour. By the time they passed through the Harbour, Percy was wishing he could stop and make Bertie or Edgar take the children home, but then he recalled the accident from the morning.

"_I'm so sorry Thomas! I didn't mean to- It was an accident!" Percy exclaimed as his friend's face emerged from the mound of coal._

"_That's the second time Percy!" Thomas scolded and coughed. When he finally caught his breath, he looked ready to rant at his friend when suddenly, his face fell and he looked very worried. "Bust my buffers, I was supposed to take the Sunday School to the seaside today. What'll I do now?"_

_Percy, eager to make up for the accident with the coal hopper, looked up brightly. "I'll take the children Thomas! I promise I'll get them there and back home safely!"_

_Thomas smiled. Deep down, though he would never explicitly say it, he had a soft spot for the children of Sodor and wanted nothing more than their happiness. "Thank you Percy. I hope you enjoy it."_

Now, struggling through the sleet, Percy felt a surge of strength, forcing through the cold and further down the line.

"C'mon Percy!""Keep going!" Annie and Clarabel cheered like Percy was a racer rather than a tank engine with a train of wet children.

Pushing through Dryaw, he was glad Harold wasn't there to laugh at him as he heaved through the whipping wind, freezing rain, and lashing thunder.

At Elsbridge, Toby was stopped due to the rain, and Percy halted only for a moment at a level crossing.

Unknown to the engine pulling it, Percy's Brake Van was talking to Toby.

"Oi, tram!" He called in a raspy voice. Toby glanced over at him, both offended and curious, and took in his old-looking face. "If you see Diesel, tell him I want a word with him at the Harbour tonight."

While Toby was confused, he didn't have time to ask the brake van why, for Percy pulled off quickly.

"I must keep my promise! I must keep my promise!" H repeated to himself to the beat of his pistons, breathing clouds of mist in the freezing rain.

And then there was trouble. Just beyond Hackenbeck is the infamous cutting where Thomas had gotten stuck there on two occasions due to snowpacks. Overlooking it is Mrs. Kyndley's cottage, and it dips low in the midpoint. On this stormy evening, it was full of freezing water, but Percy had no idea. Just before the cutting is a curved tunnel, so an engine cannot see from one side to the other clearly.

Percy's first warning of what was to come should have been the puddle he splashed in through the tunnel, but he apparently didn't notice it because as he came out the other end, he was going just as fast as he had been.

Then, the water crept up over the footplate. "OH! Percy yelped as his chassis, wheels, pistons and- worst of all- his firebox was doused in arctic water. He tried to push out of the tiny lake but he was stopped, his fire drenched, completely out of steam.

"NO!" He cried out. "I promised I would get the children home!"

Meanwhile, the children were trying to get out of the puddles that were forming on the floors of Annie and Clarabel, yelping and crying out to the Vicar as their shoes got soggy.

Neil ran to the brake van, hoping for dry wooden floorboards but the guard couldn't give him any, they were just as soaked as Percy.

"Now what'll I do?" Percy sighed, in childish defeat. "Thomas will be cross with me, the cars will laugh at me, and I'll be stuck here for ages!"

Then, as the rain began to slow, a familiar 'chop-chop'-ing noise filled the air. "Oh bother… Harold's come to laugh at me." Percy sighed. But he was quite wrong.

"Cheerio Chaps!" He shouted down. "Ya' look in need of one of these!" And with that, a package with a shoddy parachute floated down and landed hard on Percy's cab roof.

"OW!" Percy cried. "You needn't throw things!"

But Harold buzzed off, and Neil, the Guard and the Vicar scrambled up to see the package. Neil jumped and nearly slipped in excitement, but the guard and Vicar remained confused. "Hot drinks. Lovely, but how does this help?" The Guard asked.

"Oh you can take the drinks." Neil laughed, taking little sealed cups of hot cocoa out of the package. "This ought to do the trick!" Neil hefted the container onto his shoulder and pointed excitedly. The box was made of wood, and the parachute had kept it almost perfectly dry.

Working quickly, Neil stoked up a fire once more and Percy felt cozy. The children sipped the Cocoa as they waited, and the water level fell enough to drain off of the floors of the coaches.

"Alright Perce, do you think you've got one more puff in you?" Neil O'Heart asked as the fire danced in the cab.

"I promised I'd get the children home, and I will!" Percy exclaimed, and heaved with all his might out of the cutting and out of the water. Annie and Clarabel cheered as he made it onto uncovered track and puffed quickly on, finally stopping at Ffarquhar. "I've done it!" He sighed, out of breath and exhausted.

"Yes you did Percy!" Beamed Thomas from the shed. "You kept your promise, despite everything!" Thomas looked none the worse for the coal accident, and Percy was quite happy to see that he wasn't mad at him either.

Leaving Neil and the coaches at the platform, Percy backed through a siding to roll into the sheds facing outward, and smiled at his friend before falling asleep in record time.

Had he been a little more focused and awake, he might have noticed that the brake van was gone, despite the Guard standing, confounded, at the platform beside the Vicar.

[]

Toby, however, was rolling into Tidmouth. Warned of the flooded cutting, he didn't dare return to Ffarquhar until the storm subsided. Thus, he pulled into Tidmouth sheds to a few confused looks, but no comments were made as he parked himself between Diesel and Henry.

He was nearly asleep when Diesel snickered. "What do you want?" He mumbled.

"I still can't believe Sir Topham Hatt keeps a tram like you running." Diesel replied. "I mean no offence!" He quickly added to Toby's glowering face. "Just that you're so old, I'd expect you to be preserved somewhere nice instead!"

Toby rolled his eyes, then remembered a conversation from a short time ago. "Oh Diesel, a Brake van wants to see you at Knapford Harbour."

Diesel immediately rolled onto the turntable and onto the loop line, without a word of thanks or confusion Toby's way. The old tram closed his eyes again, then snapped back open.

A truck wanted to talk to Diesel. A truck, one of many trucks, trucks who'd verbally assaulted the big engines beside him to the point of kicking Duck off the main line. A truck wanted to talk to Diesel privately? If that wasn't suspicious, Toby didn't know what was.

Toby, without a second thought, rolled up to the turntable, where the sleepy workman turned him onto the loop line to follow Diesel.

[]

Ignoring the fact that neither engine had a driver aboard, Toby quietly followed a distance behind Diesel as they made their way up into the harbour. Toby stopped at the entrance, then scooted between a few non-sentient salt vans to watch.

On the Quayside, Diesel and the elderly brake van were whispering. The rain was pattering gently on the dock, and the wind was angled for Toby to catch glimpses of the conversation.

"-war with the engines? What on earth-" Diesel's voice echoed quietly.

"-to Godred I will lead-" The Brake Van said with conviction.

Toby couldn't catch everything, the rain made it hard to hear, and they were far from him.

Straining whatever he used as ears, Toby crept a few inches further between the vans to hear more of the secret meeting.

"-helped me get rid of Duck, I-" Diesel said. Toby silently congratulated himself on the finding.

"-a simple task-" The brake van chided.

For a moment, Toby heard nothing. Then Diesel burst out: "You want me to WHAT?!"

The brake van hissed him into silence.

"You can't possibly kill Edward, he's too well liked!" Diesel exclaimed.

Toby stopped breathing. What was he hearing? Had he stumbled upon an assasination?

The chug of motor car came from behind the little brown engine, and Toby knew he'd been caught. "Toby? What are you doing here? Where's Crovan?" Demanded the Fat Controller.

"Please Sir, look over there." Toby whispered.

Hatt looked across the dock and saw the shadow-clothed pair on the opposite side. Hiding behind Toby, the pair of them listened for a moment more.

"-needs SCRuffey, DUN, Fred, ULP-" The brake van listed some of the worst trucks.

"ULP?" Diesel and Toby asked simultaneously.

"That new van from the BR…." Hatt muttered. "I knew he looked like trouble."

Diesel and the elderly brake van were quiet for a moment longer, then, Diesel shunted the old car into the yard and rolled away. Toby and Hatt remained hidden in their spot in the yards for what felt like forever as Diesel slowly edged out of the harbour, apparently struggling to move properly without a driver.

When Diesel's horn at last sounded out from far away, Topham breathed. "What just happened?"

Toby looked deadly serious as he looked to the Fat Controller. "The brake van and Diesel are planning to kill Edward."

_NEXT TIME: THE CONCLUSION_

_(Also, lemme explain this openly. _

_Sentient engines CAN drive without a driver. Real Steam Engines require a Driver and Fireman to keep them running. A driver watches the tracks and controls the speed and steam usage while the fireman keeps the fire going and shovels coal when needed. Meanwhile, a Sentient Engine can see when to stop and go for themselves, meaning part of the Driver's job is pointless- so a Sentient Engine's driver works alone and basically works as a fireman (which is confusing, as they're called a driver._

_I tried to show this with the Marklin Engine way back when it was a character. You may have noticed the fact that the Marklin engine had both a driver and fireman, while the engines of Sodor don't._

_On a Diesel, drivers are even less necessary, really are just required as re-fuel-ers and to make sure the engine doesn't blow themselves up. This is why Mavis can roam the small Quarry without a driver, but down the line she gets a workman aboard. _

_This- hopefully- explains Edward's situation back in Snowfall P2 (Flying Kipper Crash), the last scene of this chapter, and everytime engines have gone without a driver._

_One last thing to note about this is that even sentient engines can only go after being activated. A diesel's engine must be running and a Steam engine requires an active fire and available steam to move by themselves._

_K, Any Questions on that? Or about the chapter of the day?_

_Next time oughta be fun!_

_-HC712)_

[]

(EDIT: Thank you to asperman1 for pointing out my rediculous mistake on the last line

WAS: "Diesel and the brake van are planning to kill Diesel."

NOW: "Diesel and the brake van are planning to kill Edward.")


	41. The Defeat of Diesel

**Chapter 41:** _The conclusion to the 'Diesel Trilogy'_

It was late, and most patrons of Knapford Tavern had already gone home. But in the back, far from any potential eavesdropping reporters, sat a huddled group talking in hushed voices, faces showing their shock, concern, and anger.

Sir Topham Hatt sat at the head of a rectangular table which the group sat around. Beside him to either side were Geoffrey Black and Sidney Heaver, then Elaine Peters and Crovan Alderich, and at the other end of the table sat Charlie Sand and August Harvey.

Topham was explaining that which he and Toby had discovered only (according to his watch) an hour ago to the silent crew of drivers. "When I finally steamed up Toby and sent him to the sheds, Diesel was long gone." Hatt finished, leaning back in his chair, looking for support from the others.

The six drivers nodded or sipped their drinks as Topham stared them down.

"Then this confirms it wasn't Duck." Sidney concluded first.

"It was Diesel, wasn't it?" Geoffrey Black agreed.

"And now Diesel's plotting an entire assasination?" August Harvey sighed. "Godred Crovan…. And I thought he just wanted Duck away to fit in better- now he's planning this?"

"Sidney, what are you going to do?" Charlie Sand asked, genuinely worried about the driver of the targeted engine.

Sidney laughed.

"No no, this is serious!" Crovan exclaimed. "If you're engine goes down, you're not going to survive!"

"Remember Owen?" Geoff quietly reminded.

Sidney stood up and threw back his head. "Look, this is not the first time Edward's been threatened. Remember the bombing of Sodor back in the war?"

Sir Topham Hatt stood up and put his hand on Sidney's shoulder. "Sidney, that was different. This time, there's a plan and we don't know it, and it's targeted on Edward. The bombing was random and chaotic. Everyone was threatened then."

"Yes I remember Topham, including my wife, as I recall." Sidney replied sharply, and Hatt took a step back. "Go find out what you can, I'm not worried about Edward- Bill and Ben may cause too much trouble for the trucks."

Sidney, his years showing on his worn face but his blue eyes sparkling, smirked and looked back to the drivers. "August, you watch your engine and keep him off my line. Elaine, you tell Duck when you get the chance, and Charlie and Geoff, you knock some sense into those bigger engines."

"You seem so confident." Crovan smiled wearily.

[]

Unbeknownst to the rest of the Railway crew, Edward was aware of the situation. The old engine had been awoken in the night by the clattering of trucks in the yard, and slowly opened his eyes to see what was the trouble- suspecting the twins might be the cause of it- but was surprised to see what he did. Rolling among the trucks was the sleek black roof of the diesel engine, apparently arranging the cars. Duck snored obliviously to the side of Edward, and the twins both sleep-whistled quietly on a siding.

Tilting his head slightly and attempting to push himself a little ways, Edward watched Diesel work. He saw nothing suspicious, but he didn't know what was happening. Finally, Diesel sped out the back of the yards, a sleepy signalman let him by without a thought, and Edward watched his tail lamp disappear down the line.

Exhausted, Edward paid little attention, thinking Diesel had just brought a night train, or had been sent down the wrong line on his way home from Vicarstown. Closing his eyes, he thought nothing more of it.

[]

Diesel was the last to wake at Tidmouth the next morning. Toby was far up the branch line by now, and the big engines were awake for their first jobs of the morning.

He rolled up to Tidmouth Station, where August re-filled his suspiciously empty fuel tank, but no questions were asked- after all, August knew where his engine had been.

Sir Topham Hatt stood at his office window for most of the morning, watching the traffic to and from Knapford Station, keeping an eye on Diesel in the yards, and keeping an eye on the skies- Harold was meant to be watching especially for runaways today.

By noon, everything was going well and normal, and Sir Topham Hatt was feeling confident the day would pass without further death threats. He sat at his desk and rifled between papers while enjoying a biscuit.

How wrong he was.

[]

"Morning Montague!" Edward called to the great western engine, pulling into Brendam Docks with his freight from the main line.

"It's noon now Edward!" Duck replied, pushing Edward's next train up beside the old engine.

"Godred- is it really?" Edward whistled tiredly, "I've had hardly a rest all morn'!"

"You may want a back engine with this load." Duck warned, indicating the line of trucks he'd brought. It was a long freight train that included the likes of SCRuffey, DUN, ULP, Fred Pelhay and an elderly brake van with a faraway look in his eyes. "It's odd, nearly every leader truck. I'd break up the train but the timetable won't allow."

"Oh it'll be alright Duck." Edward replied, wobbling over to the front of the train. Sidney disembarked to connect the train, and Elaine sprinted over in urgency.

She grabbed Sidney's arm and whispered close. "Do not let Edward take this train alone- this is too suspicious." Sidney glanced back down the line of trucks, all of whom were suspiciously avoiding eye contact or whistling far too casually.

"Edward says Diesel came here late last night-" Sidney replied, "-he might have pre-arranged this, eh?"

"Exactly. We'll push from behind and keep an eye on them, I don't like how this looks."

Sidney looked at Elaine's fierce eyes, then nodded. They turned away and moved to their respectively engine.

[]

Meanwhile, at Maron, Henry was pulling a line of Flatbeds full of logs and the Spiteful Brakevan slowly along. He stopped at the station and took on more water as Gordon and the Express thundered past. Henry tooted his whistle and, in the noise, the brake van hissed "Now!" To the sentient flatbeds.

A commotion, a tipped flatbed, a flying goat, and a shout from the platform later, the trucks had thrown the frontmost car and Henry's tender off the line, and the logs rolled into the station wall. Luckily no one was hurt, but Henry groaned and pulled away from his tender.

"Bother!" Ted shouted. "Edward's due down the line soon, we better get this cleaned up!"

The Spiteful Brakevan silently congratulated himself, he'd carried out his father's plan flawlessly.

[]

Puffing slowly up the Brendam line, a rowdy line of trucks between them, and a heavy load to top it all off, Duck and Edward were tired by the time they reached Wellsworth.

James blew past, going back down their line with the branch line coaches trailing behind him laughing about some sort of bootlaces, but Duck and Edward hardly noticed. Harold wizzed overhead, several sheep grazed in the field near the line, but the train steamed on.

Then they reached Gordon's hill. It was a huge struggle to get up it, and Duck found himself very fatigued as the nasty trucks held back, but pushed on. Edward blew his whistle to tell he'd reached the top of the hill. Duck found the load lighten somewhat as they tilted downhill, and Duck felt relaxed finally as he neared the top… and… well, then there was trouble.

What actually caused the situation- no one knows. Was it an oversight to put SCRuffey in the front, the truck with the weakest and rusty couplings? Did Diesel mistakenly set him in the most vulnerable position? Did Duck rearrange it in a moment of inspiration?

Whatever it was, it was a mistake. SCRuffey's front-most coupling snapped. Duck was hit with the full weight of the train and Edward rocketed down the other side of Gordon's hill freely. Duck's brakes held nothing, and back down the hill and thundering through Wellsworth he went.

[]

Elaine was smart, she'd called Hatt just before the long line had been driven up the Brendam line and warned him of the inevitable.

Ted was a rule-keeper, he'd called Hatt when Henry had lost his load, worried about the oncoming traffic.

Sidney stopped Edward at Cronk as soon as they slowed and called Hatt after what had happened on the hill.

Hatt was smart too, and he had a personal radio directly to Harold's pilot. As soon as Elaine had notified him of the selection of trucks they were taking, he'd called up Harold to keep a watch on the doomed train. When Ted called the Fat Controller, Harold and his pilot knew again, and Hatt prepared for an accident at Maron. Now, Harold was zooming over Duck as he thundered backward down the Brendam line, and Hatt was marching onto Knapford Platform, flanked by Lady Jane and his butler: Travis.

At the platform was Gordon, who was waiting for his express to be taken by Diesel. "Sir?" He asked as the trio stormed out.

"Gordon, you listen carefully to what is about to happen." Topham ordered.

Gordon was surprised, terrified at the angry procession, and wondering what could have possibly happened.

Diesel shunted the Wild Nor' Wester up to the big blue engine and stopped at the sight of the angry trio stomping toward him from across the platform. He bit his lip, he knew he'd been caught.

"Step off your engine August." Lady Hatt ordered, Topham glowering at Diesel with a loss for words.

August obeyed, and Diesel made a move to run away, but Toby's bell clanged from behind and he stopped short of the loop line. "Sir." Toby nodded to the Fat Controller. "Blackbird." He said to Diesel, who growled in fear.

"Blackbird? Is that your name?" Topham laughed haughtily. "Well, this king has been waiting for you. And you're in for it now."

[]

Jeremiah Jobling sat inside Harold's cabin, watching as they followed Duck's runaway line past Suddery station. "Hold it steady Great Western." He quietly cheered.

"There won't be time to land!" the Pilot shouted. "You'll have to take the rope down!"

Jobling pulled his helmet and gloves on and stood beside the bottom hatch. "Send me down."

[]

"C'mon Montague! C'mon!" Elaine cried, leaning out of the cab, leering at the pushing trucks and cheering out to her engine.

"How much track is left?!" Duck cried out.

Elaine peeped through the front window and screamed. There, ahead, taking on water at Brendam Hault was James, and his line of passenger coaches. "OH GLORY!" she screeched, and wrenched her manual brake even harder, but to no avail.

"Jump Elaine! Don't die for me!" Duck ordered.

Maniacal laughter erupted from the brake van, his face pressed so close to Duck's bunker that it was almost awkward. "I set a trap from Edward, but I'll bring down the Great Western instead!"

Harold whizzed overhead, a man on a rope quickly descending from beneath him. Elaine had no time to react when she was suddenly thrown from Duck's footplate over a bump, and she was out cold.

[]

Jeremiah Jobling slammed into the ground. His legs stung but he saw what was about to happen if he didn't move. From the distance, he saw Elaine fall and smash to the ground, he saw James yelp and passengers run from his coaches, and he leapt to his feet and ran.

A massive lever sat next to the station, where it would set the points into a siding and away from direct harm. It was a long siding that ended with a brick wall, and it was the only hope of stopping the train.

In a split second's time after Jobling hit the switch, Duck hit the points and thundered away. The trucks gasped in defeat, and Jeremiah fell to his knees, his adrenaline burning his head. He looked back to Elaine's fallen form and Geoffrey Black running from his engine to her.

Spots forming in his eyes, but a determination to make sure she survived, Jeremiah walked to the two drivers and Geoff lifted her gently. "She's alive, barely." he confirmed, then the two of them took the token female driver of the NWR to the station, ignoring the smash and booming echo through the town"

[]

"NO! NO NO NO!" Shouted the Elderly brake van as they swerved away from doom, and Duck's brakes screeched and sparked in front of him. "WHAT HAPPENED?!"

"You thought you had it all laid out, eh?" Duck laughed, trying to hold back now more than ever, the brick wall streaking ever closer. "But think of this- are you made of strong enough wood to survive this?"

The last thought the Elderly LNER Brake Van would ever think before the impact that would crush him between Duck's bunker and DUN was this: "What the Hell went wrong with my plan, and what will happen to my son?"

[]

"An assassination attempt on Edward?" Ted Brigham exclaimed as Sidney Heaver told the story of the day. "But now Duck is in danger."

"Very much." Edward confirmed. "If those trucks push him off the dock, or off the line, we might be facing another situation like your Flying Kipper crash." Edward nodded to Henry, who shook his head at the thought.

"Topham, Jobling, Harold the Helicopter- everybody's trying to clear it up." Sidney continued.

"What can we do?" Henry asked.

"Pray that no one is hurt." Sidney said, and began to walk away, then stopped. "Oh, and you better forgive Duck- It was Diesel that rallied the trucks."

And with that, Edward backed away down the line.

[]

Diesel ran. He ran and he ran. He sped around the loop line and ducked onto the main line. He'd been found out. There had been an accident, but not what was supposed to happen. August was still with Hatt, Gordon and Toby were hunting him down, Duck had crashed Godred-knows-where, and he was going to be in a lot more trouble when he returned to Barrow.

Up the Ffarquhar line he sped, only speeding up as Thomas caught him past Elsbridge.

A psychotic bus stopped at the crossing, but Diesel shattered the gates and ran past the bus on the other track, barely dodging Percy as he kept running.

But where was he going? What would he do when he got there?

He was a caged Blackbird now, and this cage was only getting smaller.

[]

Dazed and bleeding from the forehead, Duck opened his eyes. He looked around and found himself inside- inside a building. His smokebox was dented and his tank was missing a part, leaking water all over the floor of wherever he was.

People were shouting, there were people there- he hadn't noticed them at first. "P-pardon me!" He said, confused but trying not to panic. "Excuse my uh… interruption."

"I WILL NOT!" Screeched a man near Duck's buffers. "You've frightened my customers!"

"Oh… sorry?" Duck asked, absolutely confused and trying not to faint from the pain.

"I'll show you!" The man shouted, and leapt at Duck's face.

[]

In his smart, baby-blue, vintage car, Sir Topham Hatt and Lady Jane Hatt approached Brendam Hault, it was a sight to behold. James and his coaches were on another siding watching as an ambulance named Camelot rolled away from the station, Geoffrey Black and Jeremiah Jobling watching him pull away.

Harold had landed in a nearby field and his Pilot was retracting the rope, and waved to Topham as he exited his car. Jane ran to Jobling and Geoff, but Hatt followed the tracks to the wreckage.

SCRuffey's front coupling was ripped off, and he was asleep and snoring. Next was a pair of chattering and unnamed trucks that were silenced as soon as the Fat Controller passed. ULP sat next, looking honestly scared at the whole situation. Then another, cream-colored, salt van who sat on the remains of a brick wall and buffers meant to stop exactly this. Going out onto the road, DUN sat on the asphalt and was enjoying the annoyance he was causing as cars made a U-turn on either side of him. Then came the wrecked wooden body of the Elderly Brake Van, the mastermind of this fiasco.

And last, his face shoved over the road and through the wall of a barbershop sat the hero of the day, Duck.

The Fat Controller cautiously stepped over the threshold and looked around the room. Aside from the Great Western Engine's face poking through the wall, and the wreck caused by it, the barbershop was working normally. The barber was tending to his customer as several waiting patrons sat on chairs against the wall. "Excuse me?" Topham asked, approaching the barber.

"Ah, you are the controller, right?" the barber asked. "Can you fix this mess?"

The barber pointed his comb at the wall where Duck had broken through, and Hatt stifled a laugh. In anger, the barber had lathered the poor engine's face over with a massive amount of shaving cream and left him there. "Oh my."

"The bloody engine comes smashing in my wall, what d'you expect me to do?"

Hatt sighed and shook his head. "Actually, this engine, while he did damage your building, he saved a lot of people's lives today, and admirably saved another engine's life as well!"

The barber looked down, then looked up at Duck. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize."

"That's alright sir, I've had worse days." Duck replied as the barber filled a basin of water and tossed it across the shaving cream.

[]

Anopha Quarry has seen few engines in it's days, and only one diesel- though she was the resident engine.

So when the Blackbird of Sodor oiled into the quarry unexpectedly, Mavis was quite taken aback. There wasn't meant to be an engine in the quarry yet, and this diesel looked quite terrified as he rolled in. Mavis had taken him to the shed and he'd re-fueled and rested for a moment. Workmen who didn't know better had mistaken for normal the fact that Diesel had no driver- only used to Mavis in the quarry without a driver.

So now the two diesels sat talking casually. Mavis didn't notice Diesel's jumpiness or suspicious glancing across the yard, but was just excited to have another of her race to talk to.

"-and then Toby thinks he's in charge of the world!" she continued ranting. "He's a racist old tram and a fusspot about trucks!"

"Oh Mavis, darling, you should learn this now." Diesel replied, looking her in the eye. "Trams are trouble and are unreliable for any modern railway. Really, all steam engines should be preserved or scrapped, but Trams are a stubborn case. You make sure Toby gets what he deserves and-" He stopped, a bell sounded nearby, followed by a whistle.

"Speak of the devil, and he shall appear." Mavis whispered. "Stay here, I'll get them out of the quarry."

Diesel watched as Toby and Thomas barged into the yard, eyes searching for him. The sheds were luckily placed at the back of the yard, and Diesel blended in with the empty trucks as Mavis trundled around the yard and stopped the two puffers at the front.

Diesel couldn't make out what they were saying, but they pushed on, Thomas moved around Mavis and tried to get into the yard, but Mavis blew her horn and several workmen stopped the steam engines. But it was too late. Thomas spied Diesel across the way and shouted. Blackbird made a break for it, taking a back route around the shed and sneaking past Toby and Mavis, and he disappeared down the line.

[]

James carefully pulled away DUN and ULP as the breakdown crane tugged them back on the tracks, and, once connected to the rest of the trucks responsible for the attack, dragged them off to Wellsworth, followed by Bill and Ben- who'd brought the crane.

"I hope Duck will be alright." Ben whispered.

"Oh he'll be fine! He's too Great Western to die!" Bill laughed.

James didn't find it funny. Hatt and Geoff had explained everything, and he was embarrassed at the situation. He felt bad he'd been responsible for Duck being sent to the Brendam line in the first place, he felt stupid for being too stubborn to realize Duck hadn't done it, and now he was doing his best to make up for it.

At Wellsworth, he found Gordon and Henry talking as well, both with the same embarrassed and upset expressions. Henry's tender looked scratched, but Gordon was just ashamed of himself.

"Evening gents." James called somberly. "I take it you've heard the full story now too?"

"Indeed. Godred, I feel stupid." Gordon sighed. "He was an annoying engine, sure, but why did we think…

"That he'd go so far to organize the trucks against us?" Henry finished. "We all fell for it."

"Some of the stuff we said about both engines, it's unfair." James agreed. "We complimented the tormentor and hurt an innocent. It's…

"Disgraceful." Gordon cut in.

"Disgusting." James added.

"Despicable…" Henry sighed.

"OI! Can ge' we ah move on!?" Screamed one of the twins from behind the trucks.

The three engines tooted their whistles and set off their separate ways.

[]

It was night-time when they would meet again. Duck was carefully taken to the works by Edward while the Skarloey Engines looked on at the mess. Bill and Ben were helping clean up Brendam, the Ffarquhar engines chased Diesel off their line, and now the big engines had him cornered in the yards of Vicarstown.

With Jeremiah Jobling, Sir Topham Hatt, Ted Brigham, Charlie Sand , Geoffrey Black and August Harvey standing between the engines, Diesel didn't dare look up.

"What were you thinking?" August quietly asked. "I thought you just wanted to be liked! I thought you wanted to work here, and then you went and tried to kill an engine?"

"You don't understand, I promised that brake van!" Diesel explained quietly.

"The dead one? The one who didn't survive his own oversight?" Jobling snapped.

"We did like you, Diesel." Henry said.

"You nearly got me killed!" James screeched.

Gordon was at a loss of words, only glaring harshly in his lamp-light at the black engine, who felt like more of an outcast on Sodor than ever.

"I brought you here Diesel." Sir Topham Hatt finally said. "I brought you here to modernize, but not replace, my engines. I brought you here to work and befriend, not to scheme and murder. I wanted you here Diesel… but now I want you gone."

August shook hands with the other three drivers, he was far more respectable than his engine. Then, with a salute to the Fat Controller, he stepped into Diesel's cab and rolled between Henry and Gordon, who glared at him all the way.

"It's a shame too. He really did work well in the yards." Jeremiah sighed.

"Oh its a bigga' shame tha' tha'." Said a cocky voice from behind a truck.

"Godred Crovan have mercy." Topham whispered to himself as Jerry Jingle stepped out from his hiding spot. "You don't know when to stop, do you Jerry?"

"Good evenin' Sah'." Jerry laughed. "So. I've got a few questions ta' ask you."

[]

_(WHOOEE! That was a long chapter, but there was no good way to split it up so there you go._

_Um… I got no comments. Really this was a work of art for me. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I do. Man I loved writing this! I'm think every major character got their moment in this story, and the action scenes were my... experiment, so to speak. Let's just say this is a precursor to when we roll around to the more action-packed stories like Magic Railroad, Day of the Diesels, Journey Beyond Sodor… yes all of those stories will be adapted, though much later on._

_Anyways…. Yea. there's nothing for me to explain I think! _

_-HunterCreeper712)_


	42. Public Image

**Chapter 42:**

Sidney Heaver lay in bed as the sun crept over the horizon. A record was playing in his head on repeat. Elvis Presley's 1961 hit, 'Can't help falling in Love'.

He'd discovered the song with his wife a two years ago, on a trip to America weeks before she'd died. Burnett had played it for them in his shack when they stopped by, and Sidney and his wife had danced for nearly an hour to the slow and beautiful song, Burnett looking on forlornly.

The alarm clock rang and Sidney got up slowly. His little house in Tidmouth was lit with morning sun, and he sat on the edge of his bed a moment longer, watching the sun rise. His morning passed without a fuss. It'd been just over a week since Duck's big accident and Diesel had been run off the island. It was Sunday, and Sidney was allowed the morning off. Elvis still playing slowly in his head, he picked up his paper off the porch and glanced at Bob Hardy's house across the way, already deserted for the day.

Poor Sidney. He'd never been blessed with a child, and with his wife gone, God and work were his only love. He spread the paper out in front of his food and nearly spit out what he'd been eating. The headline read: '**Sir Topham Hatt: The Naive Controller**'.

Sidney shook off his surprise and read on.

_Reporter Jerry Jingle of the Sodor Post is proud to report his analysis of the Railway today. A long-time critic and former signalman, Jerry has views of the railway that viewers should be aware of._

_Regarding the well-known and widely-reported incident at Brendam last week, Jerry was commissioned by the share-holders on the railway board to investigate legally, and investigate he did._

_It began several weeks ago when Sir Topham Hatt, in a bold move that suggested he actually had a head on his shoulders, brought a BR Class 08 Diesel shunter to Tidmouth yards. This Diesel- who is sentient akin to every other engine on the North Western Railway- found himself targeted by the sentient freight cars, and lashed out against Hatt's GWR Pannier 57xx class named 'Duck'. This resulted in a wild argument that wasn't understood till weeks later, and Duck was sent to work separate from this Diesel and certain other engines. _

_On Thursday, the night prior to the accident at Brendam, Hatt discovered the Diesel cohorting with the trucks and apparently planning to severely injure and incapacitate another engine, but did nothing to prevent such an accident. Duck was the unfortunate victim, and quick thinking workmen and drivers were the heroes who saved not only the engine, but several innocents on a passenger train nearly doomed to collison._

_And what did Sir Topham Hatt do to rectify this situation? He sold the Diesel back to the British Railways, repaired the damage caused by the crash, but left no precautions to prevent a second accident such as this from happening! When asked about this, his only reply was: "I trust my engines to have learned from this, and an accident such as this will not happen again." But what does that even mean for us? Us civilians and travelers?_

_CONTINUED ON PAGE 3 →_

[]

Sir Topham Hatt slammed his paper on the desk. Page 3's report only continued to slander him and remind readers of previous mistakes. Throwing his top hat against the station window, he swore and ripped the paper in half.

So now the island found him a fool, all thanks to the slander of a stupid reporter. Cursing and angry, Topham picked up his hat again and marched onto the platform. Composing himself as he marched across it, he couldn't help but notice as people pointed and whispered. "Good morning!" He waved cheerily, but a man with a mustache only glared and two gossiping women turned their backs to him.

Gordon was currently waiting to load the Wild Nor Wester on one platform, while Toby and Henrietta waited at another. Percy rolled through followed by a newly-repaired Duck, who was pushing his long freight train from behind to help him on his way. The morning bustle of the Station was quite a sight to watch, but Topham wasn't scanning the station for his engines, he was searching for a certain reporter.

Luckily, Jerry Jingle was nowhere to be seen, and Topham moved to board the Express. He looked to the front of the engine and stopped and laughed a short and strained laugh, then walked up to the front of the train. "Charlie? What on Earth?"

"GAH! Good morning Sir!" Charlie Sand stumbled and leaned against Gordon as the Fat Controller surprised him from behind. "Will uh... Will you be riding us today? I MEAN will you be riding the EXPRESS today? Not riding us sir that sounds-"

"Never mind Charlie!" Hatt interrupted, somewhat disgusted. "What are you doing with Gordon?" While Topham had approached, Charlie had been leaning way over the edge of the platform and leaning against Gordon's smoke box, and seemed to be touching Gordon's face. Hatt moved to look at the engine's face, but Charlie sidestepped to block him. "Charlie." Topham growled.

Charlie laughed sheepishly and moved, and Topham moved to look at Gordon's face, which was chewing something and had a bit of lettuce hanging out of his mouth. "G-mrnig sa?" Gordon burbled through a mouthful of an M. signature sandwich.

"Gordon what are you doing?" Sir Topham Hatt snickered, but understood the situation.

"Allow me sir." Charlie said. "Gordon, though I don't know how, has always had this sort of craving for those sandwiches M. sells at every station. I just feed him one every so often and-"

The guard's whistle blew, and Gordon spat the soggy remains of the sandwich onto the track and screamed: "EXPRESS COMING THROUGH!" as Charlie and Topham dashed back to the train.

Though their conversation was over for the moment, Hatt took a mental note to talk to Charlie about feeding his engine later on.

[]

The Fat Controller disembarked the Express at Crovan's Gate, where he hadn't been since a particularly awkward night involving a lot of racism and debunking myths of Sodor. He sat on a bench on the Narrow-Gauge side of the station and crossed his legs as he waited on a Skarloey engine. The wind picked up and his hat tumbled to his feet, and as he stooped to grab it, his eyes fell upon a magazine lying nearby.

With nothing better to do for the moment, he picked it up and glanced at the cover. It was called **NWR: The No-Where Railway** and was decorated with a lacy railway track and pictures from the stories inside. With little excitement on the island, the Hatts, his engines and their drivers were sort of Celebrities on Sodor, and this was one of several fan-tabloids he chose to avoid. The sub-titles read things like: Thomas's Secret Love? And Charlie Sand: Caught cheating? Topham was about to throw it away till he read the back, and he gasped.

The sub-title read thus: NEIL O'HEART SECRET CHILD REVEALED. Hatt cocked his head and opened the magazine to the designated page. Terrifyingly, the article seemed accurate, and here is an excerpt of that article:

_Shaleshela Norramby reports that Neil has been sighed recently- on multiple occasions- walking around his yard with a young boy tugging at his sleeves with the same hair and chin as our favorite driver- not to mention both are of a distinct skin color! While Neil has been dodging reporters, and even had reportedly claimed that the boy is his nephew, it's too much of a coincidence to ignore!_

"Enjoyin' your magazin Sah?" quipped a hated voice from Topham's shoulder.

"Do you know I hate you?" The Fat Controller snapped, tossing the magazine into the trash. "As a matter of fact, I was simply curious about what reporters had to say about my railway."

"Didja' see me article this mornin'- that was news alright." Jerry Jingle laughed haughtily. "I suppos'ya should be worried now th'n."

Just then, a little whistle came from nearby, and Peter Sam was puffing up the track to the station. "Good bye Jerry, can't say it's been a pleasure!" Hatt called back, and boarded Peter Sam's train immediately.

"The line's getting busy." Jerry remarked, and then disappeared as Peter Sam let off a cloud of steam. He was, in fact, right. With the holiday season fast approaching- Halloween being only next week- the traffic was becoming even more than his engines could bear now that Diesel had been sent packing. He needed a new engine, but peer pressure demanded he get a new diesel rather than another steam engine.

Grumbling at his inability to escape Jerry Jingle's badgering and slander, looked at the scenery of the Skarloey Railway and tried to lose himself in the beauty of the lake in the woods.

[]

It was late by the time Hatt made it back to Knapford. The late train from Ffarquhar was quite late, and Hatt was one of very few passengers on Thomas's train as they stopped, and he left the station quickly and headed straight to the place he hated.

Knapford Tavern, as you should know by now, is a stinkpot of the railway crew's worst and best. Though the drivers made a good time of it, Topham and his brother had had several accidents at the bar and many of his workers would drink their lives away in the place.

However, in the back corner and away from the shanties always sat at least one of the NWR's engine drivers, and that's where Hatt always beelined for whenever he entered the wretched place.

Today, Sidney Heaver, Elaine Peters and Neil O'Heart sat in a triangle around the table. "Before this year you'd never be caught dead in here-" Sidney laughed at the sight of the Fat Controller, stopping whistling as he did. "This year, you just keep coming!"

"Believe me Sidney, there's always a good reason for it." Hatt grumbled. "I need a strong drink for once, and I'm glad to see you here Neil, I've got a question for you."

A waitress brought Sir Topham Hatt his drink as he set his namesake cap on the table. "Sir, you may not want to ask the question you're thinking of." Elaine warned.

"Thank you Elaine." Hatt said shortly, then looked to Neil, who was reclining on his chair and seemed to be ignoring the conversation. "Neil, do you have a son?"

Neil sighed, set his chair down, and looked at Hatt. "What does it matter?"

"Oh no reason." Hatt replied. "I just read it somewhere and decided to inquire." Hatt sipped his drink and nearly spat it back out. It'd been a long time since he'd drank.

Neil took another swig and set his bottle down, then leaned back in his chair. "You've got more important things to worry about than my son Sir. What about the increased Traffic, you've got to admit you need another engine."

"Actually I agree." Elaine replied, groaning slightly as she sat up quickly. "Blasted back."

"Still hurting from the accident?" Sidney asked her.

"Got slammed pretty hard back in Brendam." Elaine sighed. "Do not get another blasted Diesel Topham, I swear-"

"Topham?" Hatt laughed.

"Er- Sir!"

"No please." Hatt waved his hand relaxedly. "I don't care for the 'Sir' all that much. Sidney usually calls me by name anyway, you both can call me that too."

"You're losing focus Topham." Neil cut in. "New engine?"

"Yes. Yes I know we need another engine, but where do I begin?" Topham asked, shrugging widley.

"The Caledonian Railway is a start." Elaine suggested. "Scrapping steamers left and right, you should see if they'll sell you whatever they have left?"

[]

"_The month's nearly up boys." Eagle sighed sadly. "No controller's taking us, shall we try my breakout plan?"_

_We've got nae chance ay pullin' it aff." Donald sighed. "Onie crewman fa steams us up is as deid as we ur when we gie caught."_

"_WHEN we get caught? Have you no faith?" Eagle replied sadly._

"_Prayin' tae lady's dain us nae guid, whit else can we do?" Douglas added._

"_Wrong." boomed a voice behind them, and their merciless controller appeared around their shed wall. "A sudrian man has called from the NWR. He'll buy one of you."_

_The three engine's gasped, but the twin's shock quickly faded. _

"_Sod'ur?" Douglas sighed. "Ya mean whaer Eagle comes frum?"_

"_We've got nae chance Douggie." Donald shook his head._

"_Actually, he doesn't want Eagle." The controller sternly replied. "Something about an accident in '43?"_

"_That's fair."_

_Donald and Douglas looked to each other in amazement, and Eagle seems now unfazed by the news. _

"_Thaen who's it gunna bae?" _

_[]_

_[]_

_(Alright, my bad cuz this was kind of a sloppy episode… and a human-focused one. It will be important, I swear… but until then that's what you get. I'll get next episode out quicker and it will be back to the engines._

_Is it weird to have Engine Tabloids? Cuz I love the idea, so fight me. :)_

_Anyway, just a warning now- You know how the next few episodes go. 'Missing Coach' 'Twin Trouble' and 'Deputation' all come shortly, but after that…. Things get a little different._

_Really though... I kinda apologize that this is all I have for today._

_-HC712)_


	43. Ghost Train

**Chapter 43:**

It was dry for October that year, but it was good news for farmers. The long grass along the tracks was drying up and needed cut, so workmen were bundling it and selling it as feed to the farmers. Percy, despite having plenty else to do, was working with the cutters and hauled away the flatbeds of merchandise as it was cut.

"Hurry up now!" Percy called impatiently. "Thomas will never let me live it down if I'm late again!"

"But if the workmen aren't careful, all the grass could blow away as we drive!" Neil replied, just as exasperated.

So when Percy puffed into Elsbridge late, he was found correct. "Late again!" Thomas exclaimed. He was to take the grass along with his other freight to the bottom of the line, and therefore had to wait on Percy. "Time's Time, and you aren't keeping it my caterpillar friend!"

"You neededn't worry about being late!" Percy chided. "Your awful blue paint will just let you blend in with the sky and puff away without trouble!"

"HA!" Thomas scoffed. "My paint is nothing compared to you, you ugly, green, red-striped caterpillar!"

For a bit of context, the two engines often bickered about whose paint was better. Today's argument got a tad nastier as the stress and higher workload turned off their better judgement.

And so Thomas huffed off with the freight cars, and Percy grumbled all the way back to Knapford Harbour- where he was due for some shunting work.

[]

"_Are ye shure?" Donald and Douglas asked incredulously._

"_Positive." Eagle confirmed. "The auld ship is prepped for more than one engine t' Sodor, we're moving out t'night."_

[]

Dutifully pushing and slamming cars around the yard, Percy was nearly done with his shunting as a barge from the mainland began unloading. He was stuck for a moment beneath Big Mickey as the massive crane unloaded large crates into Percy's trucks- till:

"Godred Crovan!" Percy exclaimed. "What is this stuff!?"

A crate of treacle had slipped from the crane's grasp and been… upset- for lack of a better word- all over poor Percy.

"There's no time to clean you up now mate, we've already overstayed!" Neil exclaimed, hastily tossing the remains of the crate to the ground. So Percy blew his sticky whistle and darted down the line to the site of the cutters.

As he waited, the wind picked up fiercely, and Percy was battered by loose grass and leaves. He hardly noticed though, as he was attempting to spit out a bit of the treacle that had dripped into his mouth.

At last the cutters were done, and Percy set off... only to find himself back where he started. Directly before him was a hill, and climbing it was difficult due to the amount of stray plants and his own lack of sand. "No! I can't be late twice today!"

But he would be. Time after time he steamed up and dashed for the hill, getting higher each time but only failing in the end. Workmen tried to keep the line clear but the teasing wind blew their work back onto the track, stopping Percy once more.

"Bust my Boiler!" Percy wheezed.

"One more go! Give it one more go!" Neil cheered, wishing he had a thicker shirt for the cold.

Percy did, and at last he was over the hill. The workmen cheered as his trucks disappeared down the line. But if Percy thought the tracks had been slippery on that side of the hill, he was streaking down the line on the other side much faster than intended.

"AUGH!" He screamed, and applied his brakes.

He slid into Elsbridge like a baseball player's last-ditch attempt for a run, and jostled the cars as they stopped at the station. Luckily they weren't sentient, or Percy may have had even more trouble. Then a laughing voice reached his ears. He looked over the platform to see Thomas bent with laughter and turning red. Bob Hardy was smirking from his cab at the sight, and even Neil snorted when he looked at Percy from the front.

"Look at the state of you!" Bob Hardy called with a chuckle.

"T-talk about Hairy Caterpillars!" Thomas wheezed and laughed. "It was worth being late to see you like th-th-is!" Thomas guffawed as Percy lined up their trains.

"What do you mean? What do I look?" Percy demanded. "I want to see!" He whined to Neil.

His driver stepped into the station and returned shortly, procuring a mirror from behind his back. Percy gasped.

The treacle had made him quite sticky, and the blown grass and leaves tossed over him had covered his smokebox and saddle-tank, indeed giving him the appearance of a caterpillar.

"Oh Godred!" Percy sighed. "Please clean me up before Toby sees!"

They pulled onto a siding and Neil O'heart quickly tried to pull off all the cut grass, but it was too late, Toby puffed through soon after and laughed at the sight.

"Bother!" Percy shouted, jolting Neil off his footplate and into the ground.

[]

"_Thease workm'n arr bou'und ta' b' 'n trub'l once wor'd geh's out!" Donald sighed._

"_By then they'll have walked away from this railway too." Eagle explained. "Steam-enthusiasts all over our railway are getting booted and shunned, these workers will be considered heroes some day."_

"_But whah't dae is sum'dae?" Douglas asked thoughtfully._

[]

Later that day, Percy, Thomas and Toby were stopped at Ffarquhar as their drivers took a break. With not much more to do, they were conversing about sensible things like caterpillars and ghost stories.

"Have you ever heard the tale of Timothy the Ghost train?" Thomas suggested.

"Ah, I see you are an engine of culture like myself." Toby laughed in agreement.

Percy, however, was confused. "Who's Timothy?"

Thomas and Toby exchanged mischievous smiles. "You don't know of the famous Ghost of Sodor?" Thomas asked.

"The spirit of the North-Western Railway?" Toby added. "The demon of the scrapyard, the spook of the Knapford?"

"Timothy, haunt of Tidmouth?" They asked together.

Percy shook nervously. "No." He gulped.

Thomas and Toby smiled again. "Then get comfortable, my good friend." Thomas declared. "Prepare for your buffers to shiver and your wheels to wobble, here is the thrilling tale of Timothy."

"_Long ago, before any of us three had even heard of Sodor, there was a little tank engine who worked on the island._

_This was before the 'Sodor and Mainland Railway' and 'Tidmouth, Knapford and Elsbridge Line' were unified, but it was to happen soon. The Viaduct-at-Wellsworth was being constructed in commemoration of the lines merging. At the end of each line, just before the ravine, there were strong buffers and turntables to prevent engines going over. _

_It was a dark and stormy night, and Timothy was allowed to pull a special passenger evening train. Now he was a worn engine, having never been repaired or repainted properly."_

"This was before Bertram was in charge of both railways, a Hatt never would have let this story happen." Toby reassured.

_"Anyways he puffed out of Knapford as was going fine, but something happened. Maybe it was anger out if an earlier flight with the current controller. Maybe it was a brake failure, or maybe a fault by the wet tracks. Regardless, tragedy struck suddenly._

_Timothy didn't slow down down. He thundered through the station, and the next one. It seemed he never would stop. The driver leapt from the engine, and Timothy thundered on._

_All the way to the bridge._

_Over the bridge._

_He, his two coaches full of passengers who hadn't yet jumped clear, and even the former controller fell into the ravine. Timothy exploded and the coaches shattered, nearly everyone was dead."_

"Oh Godred Crovan…." Percy trembled.

_"When they finally recovered the bodies, Timothy's sentient parts were mangled and his metal unusable even for scrap, so they left him there._

_But then, years after the accident, workmen reported seeing a ghostly shape above the viaduct. Every story differed on the details, but they all ended the same. Every year, on the day of the accident, Timothy rides again. Workmen watch in horror as the train plunges into the ravine, shrieking like a lost soul, and explodes into mist as it hits the river, always in the same arc Timothy fell in all those years ago."_

Thomas smirked as Percy gasped at the end of the story. "Every year on the day of his accident… what day was that?" Percy asked in a quivering voice.

Thomas laughed maniacally, and Toby just tilted his face slightly. "The day before Halloween, October 30th."

Percy backed up in surprised and yelped. "But- But that's TONIGHT!"

[]

"_Shaem'll be miss'an ay Caeldonian Hah'loween." Donald sighed._

"_Quiet!" Ordered the workman in his cab._

"_We can't be seen or heard, got it twins?" Eagle clarified._

"_Aye, no'like ye've been b'arnin' it inta' ouar skuulls the 'ole nite!" Douglas snapped, his fire brightening at last._

"_All ready?" Eagle asked._

"_Sodur or bust saiz Aye!" Called one of the workers._

"_Full steam ahead it is then." Eagle said softly, puffing out of the shed at last, the twins to each side of him, both with a worker for a driver. However, as they should have realized, Eagle had no driver, and Eagle had different plans for tonight._

[]

It was late as Percy was finally making his way home from the Harbour, travelling quickly up the Ffarquhar line. He scooted quickly past the grass fields and only slipped slightly on the hill, making it to Elsbridge in good time. However, a bit of trouble lay ahead.

After Elsbridge is a level crossing for road vehicles to cross the road, buses and lorries and such. Moments earlier, as Trevor and Farmer Sam (Current renter of Trevor) had been pulling a large cart of Lime, the cart had snapped on the crossing, and now the lime lay on the tracks.

You can guess for yourself what happened next.

Lime flew everywhere and the white dust settled all over the still-sticky and disgraced Percy.

"I feel rather put-upon." Percy sourly declared, spitting lime out of his mouth.

"Say Percival, you look a spook tonight!" Trevor laughed from nearby. "You best be cleaned up or else someone may mistake you for a ghost!"

"A ghost?" Percy echoed curiously, then set off down the track.

At Maithwaite, Percy found Toby and Henrietta waiting at the platform. Toby yelped and then laughed at the sight of the tank engine. "After all we've said today my friend, I nearly mistook you for the ghost of Timothy!"

"Exactly!" Percy exclaimed. "I've got a trick for tonight, can you help me Toby?"

[]

All the extra work on the island after Diesel's departure meant late trains for nearly every engine. Ffarquhar Branchline seemed to be taking the brunt of it, and tonight Thomas was also preparing to take one last freight train down to Knapford.

As Bob Hardy oiled his wheels, and Ivo Hugh stoked his fire after a nice nap, Toby came bursting up the line. "THOMAS!" he cried out. "THOMAS!"

"Godred Toby! You're going to wake up the whole town!" Thomas replied. "What's the trouble?"

"There- there-" Toby wheezed, out of breath.

"Out with it Toby, I haven't got all night!" The late night was getting to Thomas.

"I just saw a figure on the track!" Toby finally spluttered. "It was a pale tank engine, puffing up the line! I swear- I swear it was a ghost! Timothy's Ghost!"

"Oh Toby." Thomas tutted. "The work is getting to your head too I see. Remember? Timothy isn't real, it's just a silly story we tell newer engines to shake them up, I remember when Gordon told me last year-"

"NO Thomas!" Toby shouted, startling Thomas. "This was real! I heard it puff and whistle! I saw it's eyes, it's black eyes! And-" A ghostly whistle sang out from the track, and Toby bolted into the shed, the doors slamming behind him by unseen workmen. "IT'S COMING!"

"N-nonsense Toby!" Thomas nervously reassured. "It's probably just Percy." The wavering whistle sounded again, and Bob and Ivo even stopped to watch the scene unfold. "No, that's Duck come to help us with the work?" Again the whistle sounded, and a light shone through a crack in the shed doors. "Maybe its Mavis?"

"Mavis is a Diesel, Thomas." Bob reminded in a faux terrified voice.

"ThOOOOOOOmMMMMaAAASsssss" moaned a voice from the other side of the shed door in front of Thomas. "THOoooMMMaaassSS!"

"Um… yes?" Thomas squeaked.

"Let me IIIIiiinnnnn!" the voice wailed.

"NO! NO!" Toby screamed. "Not by the smoke on my chimney-chim-chim!"

"What is this, the three little pigs?" Ivo hissed so no-one could hear.

"Then I'll huffffff! I'll chuFFFffff! I'll BREAK YOUR DOOR IN!" The ghost screeched, and did just that. Slowly, the doors opened and a lime-covered Percy pushed inside, but Thomas was already gone out the back. "Where's that scaredy now?" Percy laughed.

"-gotta see a coach about a train and it's late and-" rambled a voice somewhere in the yard, and several bangs and a whoosh of steam later Thomas was streaking down the Ffarquhar line.

"Well well well. Not so tough after all?" Toby smirked.

The two engines laughed and then looked at each other as Bob ran out.

Then something strange happened.

"Whoooo DARES!?" Screamed a voice from behind Toby. Percy shrieked and also scooted down the line, and Crovan and Ivo leapt to the doors and slammed them shut.

"Umm… what?" Toby shook.

Ivo and Crovan didn't say a word.

"What was behind me?" Toby asked, his voice failing.

It was a moment before Ivo spoke. "T… Timothy….. I think."

Toby sat still. Perfectly still. He wasn't upset, he never got upset. But sometimes, even this old tram became very, very scared of the unseen.

[]

"_Freedom!" Douglas whooped, speeding toward the docks._

"_To Sodur!" Donald cheered. _

_Eagle just smiled as his friends ran ahead. He slowed as they rolled toward the ship, and Donald and Douglas stopped as designated to wait to be loaded. Eagle, however stayed back._

"_Aren'chae com'un?" Donald called back, waiting below the crane like a child expecting a present._

"_Donald.. I-" Eagle began, but Douglas cut him off._

"_Eagle, wha'rye doin'?" _

_Eagle sighed, and then backed up. His breath was short without a driver to control him, and his wheels ached from lack of use. "Boys, I'm not coming with."_

_The twins gasped and backed up simultaneously. "Surelay ye' don' mean 't?" Douglas said in shock._

"_I never was." Eagle said again, and smiled._

_Donald backed away. "Ye're a trait'r!" He declared. "This ship's bou'd for Man! Where au'll enginez go t'die!"_

_Douglas backed up too. "Ye're treyin' t' steal aur place on Sodur! I should'a known!"_

"_Boys, stop." Eagle warned. "I'm not a traitor, that ship is bound for hom- Sodor, and you tow are getting on it, not me."_

_The twins looked at each other and their drivers stepped off the cabs. Now the twins noticed Eagle didn't have a worker aboard. "Ye'll die if y'e stay 'ere!" Donald quietly said._

"_So will you, I'm doing you a favor." Eagle sighed. A police siren wailed somwhere nearby, and the sounds of diesel engines reached the trio. "You've got to go, now. I'll hold them off but I can't for long. GO!"_

"_No! Eagle!" Douglas tried to move to stop Eagle, but his worker-driver had locked his brakes, he couldn't move far._

_Eagle smiled weakly as lights lit up around them. "Tell Henry I said Hi, I always liked him." And, with tears in his eyes, he sped off down the docks. _

_Donald and Douglas watched in shock, but a crane suddenly picked up Douglas and loaded him aboard the ship. As he flew high over the track and above the buildings, he saw Eagle speeding toward a pair of class 14's, and slammed into them, knocking them off the tracks. Douglas gasped and watched as two more class 8's rammed him on both sides, bursting his dome and denting his boiler, but Eagle slipped between them. _

_Douglas lost sight of the struggle as he was set on the boat, but he couldn't breathe. Eagle was dying to save him and his brother, what now?_

_Donald was shortly lifted up, and he saw a sight worse still. Eagle was off the tracks just out of the dock yard. A massive diesel with a claw attached to his roof stood over the broken red engine, smiling with evil delight. The Scottish controller was standing between them, shouting in Eagle's face. The controller looked back to the dock and watched as Donald dangled over the ship, and as he was slowly lowered, he shut his eyes, he couldn't watch. The sound of shredding metal was enough for him. _

_As the twins sat silently and in shock, few things about the ship registered with them, but one thing was for sure. It never would have fit three engines anyway._

_Surprisingly, the lights turned off and the sirens faded. No one was coming to stop the ship, and therefore the escape of both twins._

_Douglas finally spoke. "Eagle's gone, aye?"_

_Donald let a tear roll. "Aye, th' las' steamie on Scotland."_

_[]_

_Eagle hurt, but he had to say his last words. "Who are you?" He asked his attacker._

"_Just a diesel out for the good of the world." He replied, holding Eagle's tender over the engine's head. "Anything to say, anything I care to hear anyway?"_

_Eagle smiled. Years ago he might have been terrified of this fate, worried for the engines of Sodor he was leaving behind, thinking of everything he hadn't yet done. But now, he was ready for this._

"_Strike me down, I'm the ghost engine now, right?"_

_And that was all for EAGLE of Sodor, the second of the 6 original NWR engines to pass from the mortal realm._

[]

[]

_(Holy cow… That was deep. I'm kinda shocked myself._

_Like, shaking, eh? Really that was deep._

_So, any questions? First of all, Timothy and Eagle are both going to be important later on, dead or alive, so don't worry there. Second, yep, it's time for the scottish twins to join the NWR._

_:)_

_-HunterCreeper712)_


	44. Scotland Calls

**Chapter 44:**

Henry was waiting at Knapford Harbour early, the morning of November 3rd. The Halloween spirit having passed from the island, he was sitting patiently as crisp wind blew past and the sea splashed against incoming ships.

A loud ship blew it's horn, and Henry rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Are we ready yet Ted?" He asked back to his driver.

"Steady on Henry, it's barely 7 AM, you can't expect us to be moving so quickly yet!" Ted replied, sleep-deprived and annoyed as well.

The loud ship stopped beneath Big Mickey, who began to unload the cargo. Henry paid little attention until he suddenly heard a voice he hadn't heard before.

"Oh? 'Allo there!" The crane boomed. Henry jumped a little in surprise. It was common knowledge among Sudrians that Big Mickey was fully sentient, but rarely spoke as he'd lose concentration and drop things when he did. Hearing the crane speak was a rarity and obviously meant there was a shock on the boat.

Henry watched, captivated now, as Big Mickey struggled to lift whatever sat inside the massive boat, and Henry gasped when he saw the cargo.

A black steam engine with a face rested on the chains of the crane, carefully lifted from the boat and onto the track, followed by his tender. Mickey set the new engine on the rails just in front of Henry, who stared for a moment. Even dock-workers and passersby were surprised at the sight of the new engine, who was equally shocked and captivated by the presence of the dock, his eyes darting left and right across the quay. Finally, Henry gained composure. "H-hello." He stuttered.

"Top'a't Mornin'!" The engine replied, now beaming at Henry. "M'naemz Donald, ooh're'oo?"

Henry took a second to process what he'd just been asked. "Oh? I'm Henry. Have you come to work on the NWR?"

"Aye we 'ave!" Shouted another voice from above. Henry thought for a moment he'd heard Big Mickey speak twice in one day- probably a record- but instead looked up to see a second engine being unloaded, identical to Donald before him.

"There are two of you?" Henry asked. "I'd think Sir Topham Hatt would have only sent for one!"

"'E'll it nae matt'as." Donald replied. "Th's's ma' brotha, D'uglas."

"Pleased t' mee'cha." Douglas said to Henry.

Henry glanced back and forth between the twin engines. "I take it you're from the Caledonian Railway?" He asked. "I believe you're both McIntosh 812 class?"

"'E's smhart." Douglas laughed. "Indeed lad! Wha'd'ja sae y'er name wa'ss?"

"My name is Henry." Henry replied carefully, picking apart the accent to figure out what he'd been asked. "I-"

But whatever Henry was was cut off by the clanging of a bell nearby. The two Scottish engines greeted the sight of an old tram trundling down the line toward the harbour. Henry tooted his whistle as Toby approached. "Well well well!" Toby laughed. "Two caledonians?"

"Ah'cheur searv'se!" the twins replied in unison.

Henry shook his head a bit. "Godred that accent is thick…" He mumbled, keeping a smile up.

A certain blue car scooted up the quay, and Henry and Toby gave each other a worried look. Douglas caught the glance and suddenly found himself worried about whose car that was.

The twins first glance of the Fat Controller was his massive rear end sticking out of the car door. Donald bit his tongue to keep from laughing, and Douglas nudged his tender with a more serious face.

The Fat Controllers first glance of the twins was confusion. He thought his mirror was in the way, or maybe he was seeing double. But as he picked his fallen top hat from the ground, he found himself indeed looking at two engines, identical in every aspect. He cleared his throat as he walked between Henry and Toby and stopped between the four engines.

"Well, this is a surprise." He said in a voice of more curiosity than anger. After all, he didn't want to scare the new engines.

The twins glanced nervously at each other as they both understood the power that the fat man before them held. Luckily, Henry spoke up. "These are Donald and Douglas, sir. Big Mickey just unloaded them."

"I's ah… I's a play'zure to be 'ere sah!" Donald said, smiling weakly.

Hatt looked back and forth between the two of them. "Twins, eh?" He finally asked.

"Aye!" Douglas replied proudly. "Down t'er ah'r last pist'un an' gear!" He beamed, but Sir Topham Hatt's confused face damped his mood.

"I see…" Hatt mumbled. "First Lowham and I, then the- the blasted bees of Brendam bay and-"

Hatt walked back to Henry and Toby and pulled their drivers off to speak to them, but the Scottish twins looked at each other. "'Blasted bees of Brendam Bay?" Donald echoed

"Tr'i sayin' tha' foive toimes fas'?" Douglas laughed.

They began to repeat it in turns. "Blasted bees of Brendam Bay?" "Blasted bees of Brendam Bay?" "Blasted bees of Brendam Bay?" "Blasted bees of Bren-"

Henry was staring, utterly confused at the twins. "Do you two always talk in turn?"

But back behind the biggest engine was a foursome of men. Hatt had taken Ted Brigham and Crovan Aldrich to meet behind Henry's tender, and the dock manager- Keith- was summoned as well. "Why are there two of them?" Hatt demanded of Keith the manager.

"Like I know, Sir." He snapped back. "The ship's query says two engines were put on in Scotland and due for Sodor, paid and prepared. This isn't like when Thomas was accidentally unloaded, this was fully intentional."

"But I only asked for one engine!" Topham exclaimed, confused and frustrated.

"Then it's not your fault, it's the Caledonian Railway's fault." Crovan replied.

"So we have two new engines! Isn't that a good thing?" Ted asked, smiling in an attempt to lighten the mood.

But Hatt and Keith knew better. Hatt was already in deep for problematic engines with unique sale situations, another one just might push Hatt over the limit- that limit being how long the public would stand an incompetent controller.

[]

It was later, at the Steamworks in Crovan's Gate, where Sir Topham Hatt really came to understand the situation. Donald and Douglas, driven by the substitute Drivers of the NWR, were taken there to be numbered for distinction, and Sir Topham Hatt watched as they were.

"Nine and Ten?" Alfred the worker asked. "Why do they get the next numbers but the A. engines and Victor didn't get any numbers?"

"It doesn't actually matter." Hatt sharply replied. "Likely these will be temporary anyways. I only number my engines because my grandfather did. Call it a tradition."

The Fat Controller watched from another shed as Donald and Douglas excitedly chatted with Victor, but he couldn't be as happy as they were. Why had two engines been sent? Would he be forced to send one back? Which one do you send back?

It was like trying to separate him and Lowham. Granted the years and situations had done just that, but back in the day, they'd only had each other to hold on to. Their drunk father and ignorant mother had practically let them run away to Sodor, and the thought of them being separated at a time like that still made Topham long for his brother. Of course, Lowham had changed since then, but he was still his loving brother, and that was something that wouldn't change, no matter how many times he went to jail.

Hatt shook himself out of reminiscence. Donald and Douglas hadn't moved, though their numbers were taking shape on their tenders. Two workers approached Hatt and he composed himself before turning to face them.

"Hello sir." One of them said. Hatt sighed as he recognized exactly why they'd approached him. "We've come to ask you about those two engines."

"Who's their drivers going to be?" the other one, identical to the first, asked.

Topham sighed. "I haven't quite thought that far ahead boys." He replied. "In all honesty I was planning on sending one back!"

The twin workmen looked surprised. "To the Caledonian Railway? They'll be scrapped for sure!" The first one said.

"Unfortunately true." Hatt replied indifferently, but inside the thought was tearing him apart.

The twin workers nodded, then turned to leave, but Hatt called out. "Wait, what are your names?"

The twins turned back. "Baird and Barid. Williams." they replied. "Twins, like those engines."

Hatt nodded. "I'll uh… have to get back to you." He nodded, and the two left.

The Fat Controller walked back to Crovan's Gate station. Praying Jerry Jingle would be nowhere in sight- preferably on vacation or in some ditch with no escape- he sat down on the bench by the station.

He took off his hat and played with it in his hands absentmindedly. His thoughts dwelled back on the Scots. It was normal for engines of the same class to be considered siblings- Gordon called any A1 Pacific his brother, save maybe the Flying Scotsman for some reason. Even Skarloey and Rheneas were close enough to be called brothers, as Hatt reminded himself at the sight of Skarloey puffing near the station.

But the two engines back there had a different connection than some vague resemblance, they were identical, and were built at the exact same time- that's why they called themselves twins.

But Hatt was scared. Scared of more public disgrace and backlash after the Diesel problems, after the cheap way he'd obtained his other engines, especially Thomas and Toby- who he'd practically stolen.

What was the man to do?

[]

A while later, the sun drifting toward the horizon, though not nearly sunset, the new twin engines pulled into Knapford Yards where Duck awaited them.

"As I live an breathe!" Duck exclaimed. "At least, I think I live and breathe."

"Graet West'un ar'ye?" Douglas said at the sight of him. "A sioght f'er s'are eyes!"

"Ar' ye th' engine called Duck?" Donald asked.

"Montague is my proper name, if you prefer that." Duck replied. "But it doesn't matter. You boys have a thick accent, lucky I've met scots before or I'd have a hard time of it."

"Tha' broote Henry 'ad a laf'o'it." Douglas recalled.

"Don't mind him." Duck replied kindly. "The engines will just have to get used to it. For now, let me explain how we run the yards back here, you'll be working here for the time being."

The trio puffed into Knapford yards, which was tricky as two tender engines were a tight fit, but they made it work.

Duck, being Great Western, was a good teacher and soon he left with a long train for the harbour, and promised to be back soon. Donald and Douglas moved quickly, passing trains between them as Gordon, Thomas and James all came through with their loads. Though each of the NWR engines took a moment to understand the Scottish accent, they liked the twins and talked for a moment before heading out with their next train or back to the sheds.

As it were, Duck had been very good about teaching how to handle the cars, that was his most experienced area after all, but hadn't quite explained the coaches. He showed the difference between the Express, Branch-line and other coaches, but he didn't quite specify that certain engines only worked with certain coaches. Thus, when Thomas brought back Annie and Clarabel, Douglas had pushed them alongside the other branch-line coaches without a thought. ….poor Douglas.

Bertie the Bus rolled up to the station with his load of Passengers, as per usual, and Thomas stopped at Platform 3, as usual, to collect his passengers. Douglas shunted two brown coaches up to meet them, and the passengers began to load up. "Thank you Douglas!" Thomas called back, unaware that these were not his coaches.

The passengers sit down and prepared to leave, and Thomas sat waiting for the signal to change. "Silly signalman, probably fell asleep, eh girls?" Thomas joked back.

These coaches didn't respond, they weren't sentient. Thomas thought his coaches were just ignoring the joke, so he thought of another way to get their attention. "I'm going to go as fast as Gordon up the branchline, how does that sound?"

No response. Thomas's brain clicked and he suddenly locked his brakes. "Bob, what coaches am I pulling?" He demanded of his driver. Bob Hardy hopped off and checked, the silence eerily reminding Thomas of the Marklin Engine from earlier that year.

"Ah shite, where's Annie and Clarabel?" Bob groaned.

Thomas rapidly blew his whistle. "Everybody off!" He shouted. "Wrong Coaches! Wrong Coaches!"

Donald hurried up beside Thomas. "Wher'ae th' trouble Thomas?" he asked, worried about the tank engine.

"Where's my coaches!?" Thomas demanded.

Donald, confused, backed up, looked at the Branch line coaches, then pulled back up to Thomas. "Ye've got y'er coaches!" He replied, confused.

"Where's MY coaches?!" Thomas screamed. "Where's Annie and Clarabel!?"

Just then, Duck puffed in with Annie and Clarabel. "Thomas! Thomas it's alright!" He huffed, out of breath. "I didn't explain to Douglas that you only pulled these two!"

"Your coaches indeed." Annie muttered.

"We're nobody's coaches, we're our own coaches!" Clarabel hissed.

"Screaming like a child!" Annie laughed.

"Losh sakes, we dinnae know ye had special coaches Thomas!" Donald apologized. "I'll find D'uggie right now, don' fret!"

Thomas calmed down once his passengers, confused and grumbling all the way, boarded the correct coaches, and they set off soon afterward. But the twins and Duck were worried.

"20 minutes late!" Duck exclaimed. "Even on my first day I didn't cause that big of a delay…"

"Wat' 'ill'ae do?" Douglas moaned. "Thomas delayed f'er that long, yon controller will'nae be 'appy."

Donald looked at his brother with concern. "Perhaps 'e can switch tend'ars?" He suggested. "I'll teak the blame."

"Bad plan, Hatt would see right through that." Duck replied.

"Indeed I would." thundered a deliberate and booming voice from around a brake van. Sir Topham Hatt marched around the car and stood angrily between the three engines. "Duck, get to work." He ordered, and the terrified Great Western backed away slowly, with a pitiful and sympathetic look to the twins.

The Fat Controller sighed. "Godreds what a situation." He growled. "Look, you're new, I understand you made a mistake. Thomas is what caused the delay more than you Douglas, but you ran and hid when you found out!" Douglas gulped and Donald opened and closed his mouth a few times, unable to defend his brother. "I don't tolerate lies on this railway, especially not after that Diesel came. You two are going to be watched closely for the next few days, understand?"

The twins nodded, and Hatt walked away.

Donald sighed deeply. "I thought we wer' dun fer' shure." he whispered. "On'y one of us are s'pposed t' be 'ere, why 'asn't he tri'ed t' send one 'uf us back?"

"I dunnae Donnie." Douglas replied. "Blasted coaches. Why dinnae they tell me they on'y wen' with Thomas?"

The twins sat in silence for a moment. "I miss 'aur auld railway." Donald finally said, speaking what was on both of their minds. "I miss th' waey 't smelled, th' waey it looked."

"Aye." Douglas sighed. "Scotland calls t' me too."

"But we cannae go back, can'ee?" Donald asked.

"Nay. Not anym'r." Douglas agreed. "So we maek th' best we can 'ere."

[]

[]

_(a little-sentiment heavy, but I hope i've done this intro well. I've shown the struggle of the fat controller and adapted 'Missing Coach' now, so lets talk about what happens next._

_I think i've got the Break Van to deal with now, but after that I'm going to hit the Skarloey Railway for a chapter or two, and end out the arc with Christmas, which should set up my next stories well._

_I'm loving writing this, so I hope you all are enjoying reading it!_

_Till next time, _

_-HunterCreeper712)_


	45. Tales of the Twins

**Chapter 45:**

All six berths of Tidmouth were full nowadays. Donald and Douglas had occupied the two open sheds and sat between Duck on the west-most side and Gordon, James and Henry on the East. It'd been only another day since their arrival, and Gordon and Henry were each only just pulling in after a night express and kipper run respectively. Donald stirred as they backed over the turntable and tried to fall back into his memory-sleep.

For yet unexplained reasons, sentient vehicles rarely dreamed, mainly revisited memories in their sleep. Tonight, the scot was dreaming of days on the Caledonian Railway- what else was there to remember? But in particular, he kept having flashes of Eagle. Moments passing at a station, or stopping at a signal beside the flamboyant engine. Late nights in the sheds joking with Douglas and Eagle, and then the last night on the railway. The night where they'd escaped daringly and were protected by the warrior engine… What was the old boy's last request?

Donald's eyes snapped open, he was shocked he'd forgotten. "Henry!" He hissed. "Henry!"

"Goodness Donald!" Henry whispered back, settling into his bunker. "It's way late to talk! What are you doing awake, wide awake?"

"Di'ja'yeh know ov' an engine named Eagle?" He asked quickly.

Henry buckled a little at the name and his fire fizzled. "Eagle?" He asked quietly. "Eagle, my old mate! Do you know him? How is he?"

Donald's heart, or whatever passed for it, stopped at the last question. Henry's face was somewhat excited, though etched with a need for sleep, and Donald barely could get himself to speak. "I… I knew 'im." Donald sighed.

Henry took a deep breath. "Damn. He's dead, isn't he?" He whispered.

Donald nodded slowly. "'is las' reyques' was jus' tha' I sen'ja 'is regards." He squeaked, and shut his eyes.

Henry smiled weakly. "Just like him, I suppose." He chuckled, then backed further into the shed in an attempt to mask his subtle crying. Donald sighed. Why did he have to say that so late at night?

He squeezed his eyes, wishing for sleep that wouldn't come for hours. Henry stopped making noise later on, and soon was snoring. But Donald suddenly felt tremendous guilt and a sense of longing. Longing for Eagle.

But to add to it all, little did either engine know that Gordon had heard every word.

[]

The next day, as the twins set out to Knapford and Tidmouth yards each, and the other engines set off to their jobs, Douglas found himself dazed, still adapting to the NWR's work, and accidentally rammed into a brake van at the entrance of Tidmouth Yards. "Och, sorr'a." He mumbled, and tried to move past, but the Brake Van scooted into his way again. "Oi, ye' daft? Move u't!"

"I don't think I will. I'm tired of you engines bumping me around." the Brake Van growled. Donald rolled his eyes, too tired to care, and circled around the yards to another entrance.

Cold winds blew as November weather crept across the island. Snow still hadn't fallen, but frost and ice scattered the earth and the tracks and roads were slippery in places. In Knapford Yards, Donald had just carefully and sleepily taken the Wild Nor' Wester to Gordon and was backing into the yard once more when he hit one of those ice patches. His driver (Baird Williams, the twins now approved by Hatt- despite his doubts for keeping both engines) didn't notice and when they braked, they didn't stop.

"Hold up Donald!" Baird cried out.

"Ah can't!" Donald yelped, overrunning some buffers and shoving his tender straight into a signal box in the yards. "Och! Who put that there?" He shouted somewhat incoherently after having stayed up all night.

The Fat Controller came shortly to inspect the damage, alongside Inspector Jobling. "The building can be salvaged, and the engine's tender isn't too damaged." Jobling reported.

"Ah'm reall'a sorry Sah." Donald moaned. "I 'ad a roff' niote and now-"

"Never mind, blast it." Topham growled. "I know it was an accident, but with this and the coach incident, you and your brother are shaping to be a Liability to the railway."

"Liability?" Jeremiah echoed. "That's a bit harsh, it's only their third day!"

Sir Topham Hatt only stood with his hands folded behind his back and shook his head- his infamous 'disappointment' pose. Butch the tow truck helped clear the wreckage and Jobling spoke to his driver. Baird approached Hatt as Donald moved away from the accident. "Sir?" He asked quietly.

"I was thinking of sending Douglas away first, but now i'm not sure Donald should stay." He whispered. "I've got to send one away, after all."

"But sir!" Baird exclaimed.

"Please don't try to change my mind, I've got a lot to think about right now." Hatt ordered. Baird nodded and walked slowly back to the engine, Topham sighed deeply, conflicted. His mind was already a-storm with the struggle of keeping both Scottish engines, but a fight with his son Charles and mother Dowager in the past day hadn't helped his mood either. As Donald and Baird rode off, Butch approached the Controller.

"Sir?" the truck asked. A good worker with a gruff voice, Topham hadn't yet met the truck properly. "Sir, anything I can do to help?"

Hatt sighed. "Well Butch, what do you suggest I do with these engines?"

[]

It was later that day when Duck returned to the yards to work. Donald and Douglas were now to take trains rather than shunt, seeing as how their size wasn't optimal for working in the tight spaces. Each of the twins were coupled to a train and both pulled out for Vicarstown in sync. Henry whistled by at them as they puffed past the junction up the Ffarquhar line, and they replied, feeling quite at home now on the NWR.

But as their journey continued, Douglas found himself lagging, and Donald slowed to keep pace. "Ye' alrite?" Donald called. "Yer draggin' ba'hynd!"

"I's tha' blasted Brake Van!" Douglas shouted back. "'E's pullin' me ba'k!"

At Kellsthorpe Road, they were finally allowed to stop at the level crossing, where an old car was broken down. Donald waited patiently but Douglas was short of breath, having pulled more than necessary after all. "I cannae bar'lee breathe roight!" Douglas gasped. "Bloody thin' won' lemme pull!"

Donald heard his brother and backed up slowly. He brought himself level with the Break Van, who smirked at the sight of him. "W'as with you?" Donald demanded. "Yer suppos't brake when we do, no'h drag us down!"

"Perhaps your brother shouldn't have bashed into me so!" The Spiteful Breakvan snapped back.

"Ah! I've go'h 'alf a min' t' leave ya' ba'hynd!" Donald threatened.

"You can't! I'm essential!"

"As essential as me arse!" Shouted Baird Williams, in an attempt to sound useful.

The gates opened and, with a push, the double train set off. Donald moved over to the same track as Douglas, acting now as a middle engine, and gave the Brake Van a hit whenever he acted up, and the trip went smoother after that.

At Vicarstown, they dumped off their trains- brake van included- and turned right around on the turntable. Thomas brought a train all the way from his branchline and peeped his whistle as the twins set off. "Hello Scotties!" He laughed.

"Shuch cheek!" Donald laughed.

"Ah'm still mad at yon coaches." Douglas added annoyedly. Donald laughed in agreement and the two set further on down the line.

[]

While the Scottish twins may have been getting along well, twins in other parts of the island were not so much.

Bill and Ben, the Bees of Brendam Bay, were busy attempting to rectify the rather large accident they'd just caused- though it had been fully intentional.

"I told you putting those cars there was a mistake!" Bill laughed.

"Of course you did- you say that with any cars I do!" Ben snapped back, but smiling.

"You didn't listen though! And now look at what's happened?" Bill said.

"Why should I listen to you? Are you your brother's beekeeper?" Ben replied.

"Being the smarter of us two, I should think I am."

"Ha! This coming from the engine who left the oil tankers near the refinery in '58, and the whole place went up in smoke!"

"Pah! The only thing that's gone up in smoke is your brain!"

"What brain? I never had one!"

Benjamin and William looked at each other. Twin drivers like their engines, even they couldn't handle the bees all day, and so they silently hopped off the footplates and made their was to the nearest M. C. BUNN bakery.

"Anyways, lets clean up this art project." Bill decided.

"Art project? You called it an accident!" Ben shouted back.

"What? No, I called YOU an accident!"

"Now that I can agree on." grumbled the clay pits manager.

[]

It was just after sunset as the last Express run of the day pulled into Knapford Station. Gordon breathed slowly as he left the Wild Nor' Wester ladies at the platform and pulled out of the station toward Tidmouth. He'd planned to just amble into his shed and fall asleep, but he was distracted rather quickly. Henry was sitting alone just beside the Junction to the loop line, not steaming and not moving. "Henry?" Gordon asked.

"Oh. Hi Gordon." Henry replied quietly.

Charlie Sand stepped off of Gordon's footplate. He'd learned now when to stay with his engine and their problems, and when to step away and trust the engines to get back to the sheds on their own. He headed off to Knapford Tavern and Gordon waited till he was gone before speaking again. "Henry, I heard what Donald told you last night."

Henry nodded, and Gordon pulled up beside him. "I don't know why i'm taking this so hard." Henry wheeshed. "After Alan crashed and Eagle left in '43, I realized that any of us could disappear at any time. Somewhere, in my mind, I wonder if Candle is still alive or if he too crashed or was scrapped by Beeching."

"But Eagle-"

"I couldn't stand to think he was gone. He was always so nice, even when you and the others weren't."

Gordon sighed. He, Alan and Candle were the bullies back in the day. Eagle and Edward were usually their targets but Henry was quiet and kept away from them. Looking back, Gordon knew that those engines were bad ones, and he severely regretted many of the things he'd said back then. "Henry, I'm sorry." Gordon sighed. "Looking back, remembering how young and stupid we were back then, I hope Candle isn't out there still, bullying smaller or sicker engines than he. Eagle was a good friend to you, I remember, and I wish i'd been nicer to him."

"But around Edward, you act the same as you did then." Henry replied sadly. "You pick on Edward still like you picked on Eagle. And yet James comes along, strutting the same colour and shape as Eagle, and you act like he's always been your best friend!"

Gordon took a deep breath. Henry was right by all accounts. But there was more that Henry didn't know. "A second ago, you said that after Alan's accident you realized any engine could disappear at any time. Well, how do you think I felt when you crashed the Kipper exactly one year ago?"

Henry looked up in surprise. "Has it really been a year?"

"One year ago, James and Edward scuttled around in a desperate attempt to rescue you. Owen was dead and we knew it, and I was terrified." Henry looked at Gordon, who was tearing up in memory. "I remembered Alan's crash all too well. The way I felt after it, the things I never told him, and I was terrified that the same thing was going to happen to you." Henry started, but Gordon couldn't meet his gaze. "I scared Thomas and Percy too. I think I cried, but I knew I felt terrible after everything that had happened. Everything I'd said to you, I regret a lot about those days. Especially after '43."

Henry and Gordon sat there in silence for a moment, the two old friends not daring to speak or move. Till finally, Gordon steamed up and coupled up to Henry, who was out of puff. "Let's get back to the sheds, maybe the twins can tell us more about Eagle." He said calmly, and pushed Henry over the turntable and into his own berth. The Scots looked on, bemused. "Evening twins." Gordon nodded.

"Henry run outta steam?" Douglas asked.

"I stopped too soon over by the yards." Henry explained, settling in as Gordon backed into the other shed. "So…" Henry faltered for a moment.

"Ye?"

"What- what can you tell us about Eagle?" Henry asked.

The Twins sighed in unison. "'E was a good fight'ar." Donald nodded. "'E 'elped us escape 'n charged yon Diesels as they tried t' stop us."

"Big bastard w'f a claw on 'is roof took 'im to pieces." Douglas added. "Went down loike a tru' 'ero, 'e did."

Gordon and Henry listened well as the twins took them back to when Eagle came to the Caledonian Railway, straight from Sodor in 1944. The twins recounted the days before the purge of steam, and how nice the world had been with their good friend Eagle, but couldn't stop as they explained how Eagle kept hopeful as their days became bleaker, and how he'd kept their hopes up prior to the Fat Controller buying them. Duck and James didn't interrupt as they came in later, but nodded off as the twins continued, right until they came back to where they started- with Eagle's death.

"So my paint, my red coat, it comes from when Eagle was on Sodor?" James asked as they finished.

"Indeed." Gordon confirmed. "Eagle would constantly scratch up his paint with the work he did, and Bertram Hatt kept a supply of red paint handy. I'm shocked it never went bad over the two decades of sitting in the side-shed!"

"Ye look much like 'e did when 'e arrived." Douglas agreed. "I's a noice mem'ry o'v th' fallen engine."

They sat in silence for a moment longer, but then Duck spoke up. "As nice as this little trip down memory lane is, you twins are still in danger."

"Dang'eur of bein' scrapped ya mean?" Donald laughed shortly. "Ah'm surprised you 'aven't brou't it up sooner!"

"Why'd'a think Ah ran ov'a that buildin' th's mornin'?" Donald replied. "Douggie was practically on 'is way out, Ah 'ad t' do somethin'!"

"You had that accident on purpose?" Duck gasped.

"Anythin' for me brotha'!" Donald declared.

"'Ere 'ere!" Douglas agreed.

Henry nodded. "Of course that makes sense, keeping you both in trouble makes it so Hatt won't just send one of you away."

"What if he sends both of you away!?" James yelped. "He sent Diesel packing, what if he does that to you?"

Donald and Douglas stared at each other. The thought honestly hadn't occurred to them yet. "We can lose both of you!" Gordon shouted. "You may have caused some accidents, but you're good workers!"

"Eagle caused a pretty big accident… that got him sent away." Henry whispered. Gordon nodded. "Yes, but the twins haven't reached that level yet."

The six engine thought for a moment. "Perhaps you could speak to the controller about keeping them?" Duck offered. "He's a reasonable man, if we explain-"

"Explain to Hatty?" James laughed.

"Last time we had to convince him of something, the three of us literally had to barricade ourselves in these sheds before he would listen!" Gordon recounted. "And even then we got in trouble!"

"Edward says you didn't speak, going on strike was your first action." Duck taunted.

"EDWARD IS AN OLD-" Gordon erupted, then looked to Henry, who was eyeing him in reminder. "...Edward wasn't exactly agreeing with us back then." Henry nodded in approval.

"Edward might have a better idea, what do you think, Donald? Douglas?" Henry asked.

"Considerin' we 'aven't met th' lad yet, i's the bes' idea we've heard." Douglas replied snarkily.

"You haven't met Edward yet?" James laughed.

"Aye!" Donald confirmed. "Ye say 'e stayz on 'is branch line, where we 'aven't been yet!"

The other engines laughed and then closed their eyes. All six of them fell asleep shortly afterward. Each of them had a strange connection in their dream-sleep tonight. Donald, Douglas and Henry each had a pleasant sleep recalling their days with Eagle. Gordon felt poorly as he re-lived his days with Candle and Alan, picking on Eagle and Edward. James dreamt of the first time he'd been painted for the NWR, and Duck dreamt of nothing. Duck didn't often dream or remember his days, but instead his brain worked in the night, searching for solutions to present problems. Like tonight: How to keep the twins on Sodor?

[]

[]

_(Again, a little sentiment-heavy, but I do like the interactions I'm creating. Let me be clear, all major Sudrians recall 1943 as a bad year for multiple reasons. First of all WWII was still blazing, but for the NWR it was the death of Alan the engine, Eagle caused some kind of accident and was sent packing to Scotland, and something happened with Lowham and Lady Hatt (see chapter 24)_

_Is it weird that I've decided Engines view memories while they sleep instead of dreaming? I first set that up to explain away an unfinished conversation in chapter 27, but now it sort of lines up why the engines have such a good memory of things. I like it, and I hope you do too cuz it aint going away._

_Next time is more of our favorite scots, maybe more scots than you think ;)_

_-HunterCreeper712)_


	46. Family

**Chapter 46:**

Ivo Hugh loved his job… but there was another thing he loved more. But as it stood, he wasn't likely to get her if he stayed on Sodor.

So for the past week, he'd been bringing his brother Jim to work with him, and teaching Jim how to light the engines fires when Ivo left. Donald and Douglas were the perfect teaching area for the brothers, as Ivo could light one's fire while Jim worked identically on the brother.

The early and frosty morning went quicker as the brothers lit the engines fires in sync. Ivo was aboard Donald at the moment, and the scottish engine was stirring. The Hugh brothers had already stopped at Ffarquhar and Brendam, so Tidmouth was their last stop at sunrise. "M'rnin." Donald croaked as Ivo woke him, Jim struggling slightly with Douglas.

"Can I ask you a favor?" Ivo quickly whispered to the scottish engine.

"Och, 's a' b't e'rly." Donald chuckled. "Shure, w'yn't?"

"When Gordon prepares to leave with the Express for the first run today, can you cause some kind of… say, distraction?" Ivo asked.

"Distrac'shin?" Donald chuckled again. "W't fer?"

"I just need to get aboard without being seen by Mr. Sand. He doesn't exactly like me."

"I what if I say something!?" Hissed the voice beyond Donald. The scheming pair jumped slightly as Gordon interrupted. Jim had moved stealthily from the Caledonian to the A1 Pacific without being noticed, and without noticing the conversation beside him.

"Gordon, I will be getting on legally, But…." Ivo trailed off.

"You'll be with Darcy, eh?" Gordon laughed haughtily.

"Exactly, can't I just get aboard without you tipping your driver?" Ivo pleaded.

Gordon didn't respond, but sat smugly with his new information bubbling in his boiler. Ivo nodded to Donald, who tiredly but empathetically rolled his eyes, and Ivo moved to Duck instead.

[]

Sir Topham Hatt paced his office above Knapford Station. He seemed to be doing a lot of that lately, what with the twins on his line and his family a mess. His mother, despite having hardly any good influence on her sons lives, had attempted to move in with Topham and his wife seeing as Lowham had landed himself in Jail again. His son Charles had gotten in an unforgivable sort of fight with his own wife and suddenly left their children at Topham Manor indefinitely, and disappeared along the same life as Lowham. And here the Fat Controller sat, with the awful decision weighing on him to split up another family under his control.

Shouting from down below drew away his attention. He'd been staring now at the slightly damaged picture of the engines from 1942. He shook himself out of his thoughts and headed down the stairs and out onto the 1st platform to find an odd argument having broken out beside the big express engine.

Donald and a line of slate cars sat beside platform 2, one designated for passenger traffic rather than freight. Gordon and Charlie Sand were sitting at platform 1 as usual, attempting to silence the shouting and confused passengers who were expecting Edward at platform 2, while Donald only looked on with amusement.

"Alright alright!" Shouted Sir Topham Hatt, drawing away the shouts. "What seems to be the trouble?"

"This stupid engine won't move his trucks for our train!" Shouted an angry man- bald with a short beard and wirey spectacles, to some murmuring agreement.

"'Ah wass told t' put yon truckz 'ere!" Donald explained. "Wass th' probl'm w'f tha?"

Several more shouts. "SILENCE!" Sir Topham shouted, his patience thin. "Donald, please take your cars to platform 5 and i'll deal with you in a moment."

Donald whistled and complied, and Gordon blew his whistle as the Express set off for Vicarstown. It might have seemed completely normal, except for the suspicious lack of Gordon's catchphrase: "Express coming through", and the soggy bit of meat and bread laying on the track beneath where Gordon's living face had been moments earlier.

Donald scooted back into the station on Platform 5 as Edward scurried in with a passenger train from an early ship at Brendam Docks. "I should like to know who told you to take your train to platform 2?" He demanded, stepping across the platforms to the scottish train.

"Sum bloke in th' yard." Donald replied. "Thou' 'e wass th' stationmast'r!"

Topham looked up at Baird Williams, who was distinctly avoiding eye contact. Hatt rolled his eyes. "Right. Well as soon as the signal changes you're off." Hatt shook his head and started back to his office, and Donald sighed in relief.

"I dunno what you were doing!" Edward called. "That was a bit of a near miss!"

"Yer tellin' mae!" Donald replied. "Bu' I like Ivo, felt 'e d'sreved a favour!"

"Ivo? What's up with Ivo anyway?" Edward called across. "I've noticed he seems upset recently. Do you know what's wrong with him?"

"Nae a clue auld engine." Donald replied as the signals dipped. "Got ta' go!" and with a blast of his whistle he was off.

[]

While the #9 scot was on his way to Kirk Ronan, the #10 scot was rolling along away from Knapford Harbour on a trestle bridge over the river Els, with a short line of trucks due for Vicarstown behind him. He whistled over the branch-line junction and on through Crosby, whistling to himself, with Barid humming along and shoveling coal till they got to Wellsworth and halted at the signal. James was there too, completely winded.

"Wass th' trouble laddie?" Douglas asked, but his question was answered for him as he spotted the Spiteful Break van at the end of James' train. "Ah ye've got th' little shite hi'sself!"

"I could say the same to you!" Coughed the Brake van.

James panted. "I- I can barely move this train!" He could barely breathe as he said this.

"Lord James, yon Brake Van alred'a caused mae an mae brotha' some trouble!" He exclaimed.

"Can you set him straight?" James wheezed. "I won't be able to get up Gordon's hill if he keeps acting up like this!"

"Ah'll push ye frum ba'hynd!" Douglas decided. "Donnie did it fer mae, i'll doo 't fer ye!"

"Godred, that'd be such a help!" James sighed in relief as Douglas pulled back into the station and buffered up to the Spiteful Break Van.

The signal changed and all it took was one hard look at the sentient truck to get him to unlock his brakes and set off. Past the Laxley Vicarage and a happily working Trevor they whistled, and Douglas only had to whack the van once to keep the train going.

Then the long train reached Gordon's Hill. James rushed it at the base of the hill, bringing the train up swiftly with Douglas keeping the pace at the end of the first line of cars. Then the Brake Van hit his brakes.

"Slower trucks! For my father!" The Spiteful Break Van shouted

But in vain. "Your father?" Chittered a truck

"Your father died in one of these stupid plans!"

"Do you want to go down like your father did?"

"Stupidly?"

"Recklessly?"

It was too late, to say the least. Douglas gave the train a hard shove, and the decrepit wooden tormentor crumbled into nothingness.

"What was that!?" James yelped as the weight shifted, and he braked himself. Douglas stopped atop the wreckage of the stupid brake van and took a second to register what he'd even just done.

"Ok… now wha'?" He asked, stunned.

[]

Gordon the Express engine sat on the sidings at Vicarstown, watching as a mainland diesel took away a line of trucks from the yards opposite the station, and disappeared through the town. Edgar the bus beeped at him as he passed, and Gordon only rolled hie eyes. He wasn't concerned with being insulted by buses today.

Many times just recently, he'd heard a mention, a whisper, or a greeting to an engine he had no intention of talking to, but couldn't help but want to see. Many times he'd heard the name called to an engine beyond his limited field of view, or behind him entirely. The name was that of his Brother: The Flying Scotsman. The most famous of their A1 Pacific class, and one of few steam engines in full use by the Diesel-ized British Railways.

But instead he found his name shouted instead. From the station came Charlie Sand, his driver, but his face was wrought with concern rather than his usual jovial self. "Something the matter Charlie?" Gordon asked, but Gordon had a pretty good idea of what happened.

"Darcy's gone missing." Charlie replied. "That was my wife, she doesn't know where the girl has gone off to!"

Gordon looked away, attempting to mask his guilt in confusion. Truthfully, he'd been bribed, and knew exactly where Darcy Sand had gone. She and Ivo Hugh had run off together. They'd boarded the express that morning from Knapford and got aboard while Donald distracted the bystanders and Charlie himself with the 'mixed-up platform' trick and bribed Gordon with literal mana, or so he called it. Engines weren't technically supposed to eat food, but Gordon would do anything for an M. C. BUNN signature sandwich, and Darcy had given him just that.

"She said she was going out to help Chloe at old Widow Kyndley's, but my wife found Chloe at the store in Tidmouth today and she knew nothing about it!" Charlie ranted for a moment more, attempting to riddle it out. Gordon continued watching for his brother till Charlie suddenly tapped his smokebox to get his attention. "You don't think she's run off with that Hugh boy do you?"

"That Hugh boy?" Gordon laughed, carefully avoiding the question. "You've known Ivo for years, whats wrong with his name Charlie?"

Charlie's eyes narrowed. "Gordon, do you think she ran off with Ivo Hugh?" Gordon stiffened and looked away again, unable to conceal his role in the situation any longer. "Gordon… do you know where Darcy is?"

Gordon let out a long sigh. "I don't know where she is, but I know where she was."

"And where was that?"

Scotsman's whistle rang out in the station, and Gordon looked up. His brother was backing into the station, not pulling in forward. The wait had been for nothing, Scotsman wouldn't even see him.

"Gordon?" Charlie sharply said again, and Gordon looked down, hurt and confused.

"She was on the Express with Ivo this morning." Gordon admitted. "The mix-up with Donald was to distract you as they got on board Wester, and they're probably halfway to London by now."

Charlie cursed and kicked Gordon's buffer beam. Gordon didn't feel so much pain from it, but guilt from his act. The whole time Darcy and Ivo had been dating, Gordon had only laughed away his driver's anger. Now he began to see the situation as it was. Charlie sank to his knees on the track, and Gordon could only watch as his driver, a confused and worried father, angrily punched the ballast beneath him.

[]

Back at the infamous hill of the engine we've just left, Sir Topham Hatt stepped off of Butch the Tow Truck to see the damage. Currently, Percy had brought the Breakdown Crane from Knapford Harbour and was holding it up as it cleared the wreckage of the Spiteful Brakevan away. The bruised, bleeding and stone-cold face of the unfortunate truck was lifted off the track with a somber slowness, and Douglas was gently pulled back onto the track by James, who'd taken both sets of trucks to Maron and left them there for the time being.

Butch set to work hauling away the crushed wood and metal and Douglas looked sheepishly on at the Fat Controller. "S'pose ye'll be cross, eh?" He asked indifferently. "Ye'll wan' t' send mae off now, eh?"

Sir Topham Hatt could only shake his head. Percy and James looked at their poor controller with pity, it was an awful decision he had to make. "Honestly, I don't really want to send you or your brother away Douglas." He finally revealed. "But the… unusual way you've come to the North Western Railway looks bad."

"Aye, how d' ya' think we feel about 't all?" Douglas conceded.

Sir Topham Hatt once again folded his arms behind his back as Douglas finally clunked back onto the rails with the help of the crane and Percy rolled back down the hill with it.

Douglas and James watched Hatt for a moment longer, then set off to finish their jobs. Thus it was only Butch, his driver: Jem Cole, and Hatt on the hill contemplating the situation.

"I've already asked you Butch," Topham recalled. "But I'll say it again. What am I to do with the twins?"

"Keep 'em both! Screw that reporter, he can eat his notebook!" Butch gruffly but sympathetically replied, still dragging away the dead brake van's carcass. "I seen what he said about you, he's a complete arse!"

"An arse with the public's trust, unlike myself." Topham sighed. "Got it all together he does. A job that he can do well, a family who actually cares for him, and no need to worry."

"Yer having family troubles on top of all this?" Butch asked.

"Why do you think I've been so stressed?" Topham replied. "It's awful. My own twin is rotting in some jail while i'm forced to choose which of the scots gets to live!"

And with that happy thought, Topham hopped back aboard the tow truck and set back down the hill with his friends.

[]

Butch and Jem Cole dropped Topham off at Knapford Station once more as darkness fell and rode off to Wellsworth. Topham was tempted to call someone, anyone. Maybe Burnett, or Robert Norramby- both old gents he hadn't spoken to in years. But as he pondered this, he found himself in another difficult decision. He knew exactly where to find someone to talk to, but he'd have to drag himself back into that bloody tavern.

His thoughts were interrupted by the deep whistle of the Express engine. For a moment, his mind flitted to a more peaceful time at the sound of the whistle, August of 1952 when he'd first taken over the railway. Gordon's had been the first whistle he'd heard that afternoon, in a nostalgic way he'd never forget.

But all was not well as the Express came in. Gordon's upset face told it all as he wheeshed to the platform. The passengers disembarked and Charlie stepped down from the Express engine, who sadly pulled away.

"What's happened?" Topham asked. "Something to do with Scotsman?" Hatt was aware of Gordon's fight with his brother, and that Scotsman would occasionally pull into Vicarstown alongside Gordon. Hatt hoped an interaction had never taken place for their sanity, but he was worried.

"No, Gordon's not having family problems." Charlie muttered, and then slowly marched off the platform toward Knapford Tavern.

Hatt groaned. Now he really had to go to the Tavern, so he quickly returned to his office and closed it up before following after his distraught driver.

The stench of the place was imminent even as you passed by the place. The stench not only of fried food and stinking alcohol, but the stench of sadness and hopelessness. Inside are mostly men of the railway, working long shifts and drinking away the long nights. Topham never was much of a drinker, nor his Brother. They'd run away from their father as he gambled their money in such a bar on the mainland, and Topham had never learned to trust these places. But tonight, as it was every time he was forced into this wretched hive of scum, it was necessary to be here. In the back, beside the window, was a spot of light in the dark place: The drivers of the NWR. Never did they entirely succumb to the despair of the tavern like so many others, but spent their evenings chatting over drinks instead of drinking over pains.

Tonight, as always, Hatt made his way directly to the back corner table. Men glanced up at their boss as he made his way past, but never would they stop him or greet him, and he didn't want them to.

Charlie Sand sat at the window, with a large brandy in his hand while Sidney Heaver, Ted Brigham and Baird and Barid Williams tossed around the stories of the day. Sidney Heaver guffawed over his drink at the sight of him, and the five men stood as Topham approached, Charlie a little slower than the rest. Hatt waved them back into their seats. "Yes, i'm back."

"For what great purpose today?" Ted laughed. "I thought you never came in here?"

"Believe me i'd like to get out of here as fast as possible." The Fat Controller gumbled. "So i'll get straight to the point. What's wrong Charlie?"

Charlie looked up and sighed. "Oh just my daughter, as usual."

Topham eyed his employee suspiciously. "Not as usual, clearly. Something different must have happened- what is it?"

Charlie took a long drink before replying. "She's run off to London with your fire-lighter, that Ivo Hugh."

Hatt nodded knowingly. "I was aware of a blossoming romance between the two. Are you certain they've run off?"

Charlie looked very darkly at the Fat Controller. "What reason do I have to doubt? I never liked Ivo with my Darcy. If they wanted to be together, of course they would have run away. Besides, Donald and Gordon told me so."

Hatt looked at the twin drivers, who shrugged in denial. He rolled his eyes and looked back to Charlie and searched his brain for some advice "Listen, I'm sorry that's what happened. Perhaps if you hadn't been so hard on them- or made Ivo feel a little better around you then-"

"Perhaps-!" Charlie spluttered. "Perhaps it's all your fault, eh Topham?"

Hatt was taken aback, and the other drivers watched on with confusion. "Excuse me Sand? How on Earth is this my fault!?"

"You hired Ivo! Darcy would have never met the lad if you hadn't had him lighting the engines each morning, especially when my daughter was around!" Charlie was shouting, and the immediate area was quieter as drunk men listened in on the fight.

Hatt breathed heavily. "What-" But he was interrupted again.

"It's your fault they've run off! You allowed them to meet!" Charlie shouted to Hatt, then turned to Baird. "Your engine helped them escape! My engine helped them escape! This whole Damn railway helped them escape!"

Hatt slammed the table, taking the attention once more as his face flushed purple. "How dare you accuse me." He quietly snarled. "How dare you blame your work for Daughter's decision."

"How dare I?!" Charlie laughed shortly. "I've said nothing wrong. You're losing your grasp on this railway! Those twin engines are a problem you have no answer to, and now you've allowed my family to be torn apart beneath your control!" Hatt took off his hat and pointed at Charlie, but Charlie continued: "If Bertram was still here, maybe the Railway would make sense!"

Every voice in the bar gasped. Speaking of the old controller without his title 'sir' was taboo, and everyone knew simply what would happen when Hatt opened his mouth next.

Shocked, hurt, and his anger boiling hotter than James in the middle of July, Hatt pointed at the door to the tavern and growled his final word to the driver. "Get out."

Charlie complied with no grace. Dropping and shattering his brandy on the floor, he picked up his coat and stormed away, as Topham screamed after him. "Get out of the bar, get out of Knapford, GET OFF MY RAILWAY!"

Charlie Sand slammed the door behind him with finality, and Topham sat, stunned entirely at the situation. Ted raced out the door after him, and Sidney stood up. Hatt's ears were ringing, confusion clouding his every thought, and he felt a hand fall upon his shoulder. "What did you just do?" Sidney whispered as other patrons of the tavern returned to their own conversations, shaken by the scene that had unfolded.

"I fired Charlie Sand." Topham replied in a shaking and nearly silent voice.

[]

Tidmouth sheds was peaceful that night. Duck was star gazing and telling the twins of a time on the GWR when his lamp had gone out and he followed the stars back home, while the other big engines half-listened and half-slept.

"After all, celestial navigation led sailors for years across the seas, why couldn't I follow the stars back to the goods yard?" Duck continued.

The captivated audience were drawn away as the familiar blue car of Sir Topham Hatt sped into the yards. Sir Topham Hatt stepped out, and immediately the engines could sense something was drastically wrong. He shook as he closed the door, and his hat was tilted somewhat oddly on his head.

"Sir?" James asked.

"It's late, I'm sorry to tell all this right now, but I have to explain before you wake up tomorrow." Hatt wearily said, and all the engines gave him their attention. "Gordon, you will not be pulling the express tomorrow."

"What did I do!?" Gordon yelped.

"Silence!" Hatt snapped, his controller side bleeding through the confusion. "Gordon, I was just forced to fire your driver: Charlie Sand. Seeing as how we have no spare drivers, you will remain in the sheds until further notice." Gordon gasped, all dignity lost as he tried to understand, but Hatt continued nonchalantly. "Donald and Douglas. You are both aware that I've been planning on sending one of you back to your homeland. While this still remains for debate, you are now to work full-time taking Henry's jobs as he runs the Express. So, until further notice, you'll both be staying." Donald and Douglas were even more shocked, and looked to each other and Gordon, in equal confusion. Hatt ignored the emotion in the yard and ambled back to his car, only calling: "Goodnight." before disappearing back toward Knapford.

"Charlie got fired?" Gordon whispered.

"That- that's what Hatty said." James nodded slowly.

Silence fell, terrible confused silence that filled the sheds with only further confusion. Donald and Douglas didn't dare celebrate their extended life for Gordon's sake, and Duck nor Henry nor James knew what to say.

And so they sat in silent confusion till sleep came.

[]

[]

_(I hope the wait was worth it... was that a wait? I feel like that took me too long to produce. Anyway, there's my reasoning why Donald and Douglas stay, out of necessity. I think I balanced this story well- leaning way into the Human side of the story but leaving enough repercussions and background with the engines that it flowed._

_I gave the Spiteful Brakevan a less-than dramatic death because it made for a better character. I used the Elderly Brakevan, his father, as a larger player, and it felt self-serving to give Spiteful a lack-luster death by his own stupid mistakes he should have corrected from his father's failure._

_And last, It's worth mentioning that ever since 'Great Western Way' when Ivo and Darcy Sand's romance was introduced, I knew I was going to have to bring it to a climactic finale like this. The Human side I sort of consider to be my own original stories. It explains missing elements from the Awdry and Alcroft stories while giving me room to get creative, so I plan on using the drivers and their families as major players in the story as long as it makes sense._

_So, Questions in the Review section as always, i'll do my best to answer. Thank you to all who have reveiwed already and I hope you continue to enjoy the story!_

_-Hunter_


	47. Not-So Little Railway

**Chapter 47:**

Come mid-November, snow had finally fallen. Though not heavy, the ice delayed work at the quarry of the Skarloey Railway. Rheneas still was away being repaired, and Rusty was now painted orange and working hard to keep the snow clear of the lines. Peter Sam, Sir Handel and Skarloey took trains up and down the line, rarely having a moment of rest as they rushed to keep up with the work.

The Quarry was old, and in need of repair. But without traffic from it there wasn't enough for the engines to do, meaning it had to be left open, even as the ice and snow settled across it. Today, as Sir Handel collected his cars from the incline, his driver was talking to a couple of workmen nearby.

"-fired a driver I heard."

"-Jerry Jingle wrote it all."

"-believe what you want-"

"Oi!" Sir Handel called, his impatient and attention-craving self. "What'choo talking about over there?"

"Nothing." One of the workmen lied.

"Shut it. Can't we tell 'im?" The driver snapped. "Sir Topham Hatt got into a bit of a fight with one of his drivers, according to 'The Sodor Times'."

"You mean the one Jerry Jingle reports to?" Sir Handel asked.

"Aye, making another fool of the Fat Controller it seems." The second workmen replied.

"Blast that man, why can't he leave the railway be?" Sir Handel growled. After the recent months of more and more bad news being spread about the railway, whether it was true or not, any good worker knew Jerry Jingle was a cancer to their business. "After the rant 'e had about me and Stu-... Pet'a Sam coming here, he should die in a hole!"

The workmen murmured in agreement and Sir Handel's driver returned to his engine and they set off down the mountain, with Sir Handel biffing the cars to keep them in line.

[]

Meanwhile, at the bottom of the line, Skarloey and Peter Sam sat talking at Crovan's Gate while Henry sat at the platform.

"That mine's got me worried." Peter Sam told Skarloey. "I hear it groaning under the snow and… I don't like that."

"Rubbish!" Skarloey replied. "That mine's held up for decades now, why should this winter be any different from ones past!"

"Oh that's a jinx if I ever heard one." Henry coughed. "Gremlins'll probably take it to pieces now!"

"Gremlins?" Peter Sam asked, worried.

"Oh ignore him." Skarloey threw a warning look at Henry. "Gremlins aren't real."

Henry smiled dopily and tooted his whistle before puffing off with the Express, and Skarloey shook his head. "Gremlins aren't real." Skarloey repeated. "It's just something that big engines like to blame when things aren't going right."

Peter Sam sighed, then looked back toward the mountain. "I still am worried about the mine."

Skarloey sighed in exasperation and chuffed toward the platform with a line of coaches, and Peter Sam waited by the shed for his later jobs, but was shortly interrupted by Sir Topham Hatt. "Good morning sir!" Peter Sam called to the Fat Controller. "Is something the matter?"

Sir Topham Hatt was still wrought with exhaustion and confusion. His tired face sagged somewhat and any engine or worker could tell he was not to be messed with. "Oh, the list doesn't end Peter Sam." He sighed. "It seems our friend Sir Handel has taken ill, and is taking a rest at Vicarstown. I need you to take care of the train at the Quarry in his place."

"Yes sir!" Peter Sam cheerily replied, hoping to fix the controllers mood somewhat. He was disappointed to see it didn't, and scuttled up the line dutifully as Sir Topham Hatt turned back to his car to the sound of the Caledonians whistles on the main line.

[]

Back at Vicarstown, Sir Handel was anything but ill. In fact he was laughing to himself. He'd fooled his driver, three workmen and the stationmaster into thinking his boiler hurt- something only Victor and his workers could prove wrong. But here he was a Vicarstown with no-one to break his claim.

"Ah, Looky 'ere at t'a li''le engine all smug 'n happy." Snarled a voice from nearby.

"Bog off!" Sir Handel snapped back at it. "I'm sick!" he threw in a fake cough to make his point, but feared it wasn't convincing.

Sir Handel was sitting on a siding in the freight yards, which connected to both the standard- and narrow-gauge railways of the NWR. Laughter echoed around him and he frantically looked up and down the yards, searching for the heckler. "Funny, isn' 'e?" The voice rumbled again. "Think's 'e c'n ge' away like this?"

"What would you have us do!?" Screeched a chorus of Narrow-Gauge trucks in response and in unison, which made for a terrifying stereo.

"Perhaps another engine is now at the mines, in this one's place?" offered a deeper and more annunciated voice from nearby.

Sir Handel might have been in a nightmare. Voices resonated on all sides, like a cult surrounding the little engine. "Yeah, yeah ther' would be, eh?" the first voice growled again.

"OI!" Sir Handel shouted, attempting to drown out the ringing in his brain and sounding braver than he felt. "Shut up and let a sick engine be!"

"You ain' sick!" The voice screeched again. "I know you was talkin' t' a big engine 'bout fakin' sick!"

Sir Handel was caught and terrified now. Indeed, he'd been complaining about his workload and had asked an engine nearby, a Steamie BR Engine, on how to skip out of work for today. The engine laughed and told him to do exactly what Sir Handel had done- play sick.

"I think there should be a punishment." Boomed the smoother voice.

"Yeah, yeah!" Screamed other cars. "What'll we do to him?!"

Sir Handel yelped and tried to run, but found his fire was gone out, he couldn't. "Don't touch me!" He screamed, all power gone from his voice.

The voices laughed. "Not you." The deep voice replied.

"Th' engine at t' mines?" Suggested the scratchy voice again. "Throw 'im off th' rails?"

Silence for a moment. Terrifying silence. Then Sir Handel tooted his whistle loudly, trying to get anyone to come to his aide, but in doing so he covered whatever the trucks said next. The trucks were laughing psychotically again once he stopped, and he looked around. No voices came, just laughter, terrible laughter.

Then the noise stopped. Sir Handel looked around. Was he having a nightmare? What just happened? Was it some manifestation of his own conscience- or lack thereof?

A little horn tooted nearby and Rusty rolled into the yards.

"Rusty! Rusty!" Sir Handel called. The little diesel hardly looked at him before gliding across the rails to his side. "Rusty- Who is at the quarry right now?"

Rusty tilted their head slightly. "I think it was Peter Sam, and Skarloey's on his way past it right now."

Sir Handel recognized a sort of buzzing that came from nothing natural. He leaned over to look and discovered Rusty's trucks chittering quietly to the same ones that had just been taunting him. Sir Handel gasped.

"Rusty, we've got to get up there! There's going to be an accident!"

[]

Up at the quarry, the old winch groaned as it dragged a line of empty cars up the hill, in unison with a line of filled cars slowly going down. Peter Sam waited at the bottom of the incline, where the trucks of slate from the base of Mt. Anopha would be left to him to take to Vicarstown.

Peter Sam hummed to himself as he waited, paying little attention to the world around him. Not noticing the gradually increasing groaning and strain coming from the winch, or the sniggering cars around him each spreading the message quickly- it was time for some action.

[]

Down below the mines, a little gulley cut through the hills with rails laid within make it easier for the little engines to reach the stations on the Culdee Fells. Skarloey was travelling through that gulley at the same time, with some light passenger coaches that weren't nearly full.

He stopped partway through the gulley for his driver to sound-test the snow. They didn't want to set off an avalanche with them inside, so his driver carefully set off a blasting cap to make sure the snow wouldn't fall. After a second of tense silence, his driver relaxed. "Good, not even a trickle." And he was right, no snow had fallen from the noise of the detonation.

[]

Sir Handel and Rusty sped up the line. "What exactly is the problem?" Rusty asked.

"I told you! I faked sick and now the trucks are going to hurt Peter Sam at the quarry!"

"Hurt him? How?" Rusty asked, his far-away look fading into real intent.

"I don't know, they're cars!" Sir Handel spluttered. "They could do a lot of damage! Throw him off the rails! Shove him into a building! Knock him right off the cliff!"

Rusty gasped. "The winch at the Quarry is weak! If they broke that-"

"They'd have their opportunity!" Sir Handel finished. His boiler bubbled strongly as the two engines quickened their pace up the Skarloey route. Rusty's engine roared as they slammed through a snow bank and into the quarry- just in time to see it all unfold.

"Hello Sir Handel, Rusty!" Peter Sam called, looking away from the line of cars that were slowly descending the incline toward him.

"Stuart! Look out!" Sir Handel called, but it was too late.

In a matter of seconds, everything went to hell. The rope letting the filled cars down snapped, and they thundered down the hill and directly into Peter Sam's front. Slate flew everywhere and Peter Sam screamed in pain as the trucks cut his face and slammed into his funnel. An overhead pipe-line shattered from a flying truck and frozen water spilled across the mess, but there was more to come. The opposite line of empty cars broke the ropes on their side and rocketed by on the clear line. Straight through the buffers and snow and over the cliffside they fell, right into the Gulley below.

"Godred Crovan!" Sir Handel stared in shock.

"Quickly now, we've got to get Peter Sam to Victor!" Rusty ordered, all traces of their usual dreaminess gone and replaced by that of action. "We'll have to clear the broken trucks and slate!"

Sir Handel grimaced, he didn't like the thought of being ordered around by a diesel but he knew it was better to follow Rusty's lead and rescue his friend. Sir Handel nodded and rushed over to pick up a pair of workmen and strong cables to pull away the wreckage. Rusty followed suit but before they reached the damaged engine, a whistle from below shrieked over the noise. "What was that?" Sir Handel yelped.

Rusty stopped. "Skarloey! He's down in the gulley right now!"

"Go get him Rusty! I'll get Stuart!"

Rusty looked confused for a minute at the name Stuart, but didn't hesitate to rush down the hill.

Sir Handel looked back to his friend, water freezing across his cab and his flesh face bleeding freely. He set his jaw and let the workmen attach him to the most prominent cars, which he yanked out of the way quickly.

"F… Falcon?" Peter Sam groaned dazedly. He didn't open his eyes, but Sir Handel only moved quicker to rescue his friend.

[]

Skarloey was just steaming up when the cars tumbled over his head. They slammed into a snow bank on a lower ridge, and the whole thing cascaded down onto Skarloey. He cried out, blasted his whistle, then was silenced by a blanket of white. His coaches were left exposed, the people inside kept safe, but Skarloey had disappeared under the miniature avalanche. You wouldn't have known there was a little engine in there if you'd seen it.

Rusty tooted their horn in triumph as he discovered Beatrice, Agnes and Jemimah protruding from the snow just ahead of him. With no other way to rescue Skarloey, Rusty tugged away the three coaches back to Skarloey station as fast as their wheels could take them. "Steady on." The driver warned.

At the station, a car with several workmen with picks and shovels waited for the little diesel. Rusty hooked up to the car and set off smoothly as driver explained the situation to the hurriedly-gathered men.

They stopped at the gulley and checked the pile of snow over, searching for any sign that Skarloey and his driver weren't freezing alive in there. The men dug quickly, and found a strange sight inside.

Inside the snow was an ice cave. Ice was traced up and around in an igloo shape beneath the snow and wreckage of the trucks. "It's an igloo!" exclaimed Rusty, the usual faraway, care-free attitude returning.

"Don't be daft: It's an engine!" Albert the workman laughed.

"It's Skarloey! Get him out!" Rusty's Driver ordered.

The men took their picks and broke down the ice around the old engine's face and cab. A whoosh of hot air billowed past them as they broke the ice and they gaped at the scene inside.

"Oh thank you boyos!" Skarloey laughed, the little engine seemed to be sweating. "It was getting hot in there."

"Cocoa?" Offered his driver, who'd stirred up some Hot Chocolate inside his little ice house. Everyone laughed save Rusty, who looked on with confusion. "I don't see what's so funny about Cocoa."

[]

The last of the trucks and slate out of the way, Sir Handel had a clear view of the shape Peter Sam was in. The unconscious engine was dented across his boiler, smokebox, and buffers. His funnel was twisted probably beyond repair, and drooped over his cut and bleeding face. "Keep it together Stuart." Sir Handel whispered, and coupled up to Peter Sam.

They puffed down the hill line that wasn't blocked by Skarloey's igloo and continued through the woods. Peter Sam's breath was shaky and slow, and Sir Handel moved carefully as they neared the bottom of the line.

Sir Handel knew he often came off as a coarse sort of character. He was impatient and self-centered, but he cared about his friends. Ever since the MSR had shut down it had just been Stuart and Falcon. Everyone else was dead, and Sir Handel didn't think he could handle losing Peter Sam too. He'd come close before: once back in their glory days here on Sodor, and once in a factory accident in '52, and he himself had very nearly died on the mountain road years ago if it hadn't been for Duke. Now, pushing a bleeding and hurt Peter Sam over a wintry bridge, he couldn't help but realize how fragile life is. And how poetic he'd become with age.

Through Crovan's Gate the duo got odd stares and gasps at the state of Peter Sam, so Sir Handel accelerated to get staring eyes away from his friend's injuries.

"Ay Caramaba Senor Handel!" Victor exclaimed as they trudged in. "Bring him over here, quickly!"

"Trucks up at the quarry broke the winch and slammed him." Sir Handel explained. "How does he look?"

Victor put Peter Sam on the turntable in the center of the larger shed and looked him over as the turntable spun. Workmen set to work fixing his buffers and Victor approached Sir Handel. "It's Asi Asi. He'll be alright, but repairs may take some time, compadre."

Sir Handel sighed and watched as Victor indicated a large roll of bandages and a barrel of a cleaning fluid for the workers to use on Peter Sam's face. "Thank you Victor. I'll be back tonight."

"Tonight?" Victor asked.

"To check up on him, you know." And with that Sir Handel rolled back out, cursing himself. He stopped at the platform without any rolling stock. Sir Topham Hatt stood there, tired as he had been but gently smiling.

"Sir Handel, I'm proud of you!" the Fat Controller boomed.

"Sir?"

"You helped rescue Peter Sam from that nasty situation despite being ill, and proved you are a really useful engine!" Sir Handel looked Topham in the eyes. The man was beaming, a smile that hadn't been seen in a few days since the firing of Charlie Sand. But Sir Handel knew he had to wipe that joy away.

"Sir, thank you, but I don't deserve it." Sir Handel muttered.

"Oh come now, don't get humble all of a sudden! You pushed through-"

"I wasn't sick sir. I faked it."

Silence followed. A strange and disappointed silence that seemed to be a recurring darkness on the island. Sir Topham Hatt's face fell back into it's broken, confused sadness and looked at Sir Handel. "You faked sick- to get out of going to the quarry, I assume?"

"I'm sorry sir." Another moment of silence, then, the Fat Controller did something unexpected. He sat down on the edge of the station and patted the smokebox of the old engine. "Sir?"

The fat man sighed. "I remember you as Falcon." He started plainly. "I rode your trains as a child, on holiday with my real parents before… things changed." He paused, and Sir Handel only stared. "You always have been bad-tempered, and the work here is strange I'm sure, after being so long away from a real railway. I should be upset with you for your lie, but I'm not. I've had too many fights recently and I don't want to anger you further."

The Fat Controller nodded slowly, then stood again. "You did well by rescuing Stuart, and so I won't punish you for the lie. But I want you to remember this."

And he stepped away, and Sir Handel could only watch, dumbfounded, as he did.

The Fat Controller stopped just off of the platform and scanned the crowd. Sure enough, there was the brown fedora and trench coat of Jerry Jingle. The reporter waltzed himself over the crossing bridge and approached Topham. "Sah."

"Jerry Jingle, my eternal tormentor." Sir Topham Hatt replied, his tired tone reflecting his internal battles. "I hope you saw what I did there."

"Oh I saw. I saw a man le' an ol' engine ge' away wi'f a 3-year ol's trick." Jerry spat. "Wha' you take me for? A fool?"

"Oh its an easy mistake Jerry." Topham replied. "How thick can you be? I forgave an engine who understood the consequences of his actions!"

"An' moaned about ol' times an' ol' names." Jerry sniped back.

Topham shook his head, too tired to give into a real argument. "Mr. Jingle, can I ask you just one thing?"

"On the record?" Jerry asked excitedly, procuring his notebook.

"Why not." Topham shrugged. Jerry opened the book and put his pencil to the paper. "How do you sleep at night, knowing you twist an innocent man's words like you do?"

Jerry blinked in surprise, and Topham left him with finality, standing on the platform with nearly as much confusion as he.

[]

[]

_(First things first, Sorry this one took over two weeks to release. I had a bit of writers block, a bit of revising this one- it originally ended completely differently, with Falcon and Hatt in bad standings and Skarloey injured too, but then i took a look at it and realized it's better to give Hatt SOMEONE who isn't mad or confused at him. _

_I'm getting better at marking the personalities of the engines. I know it was as struggle earlier on but with the Diesel Saga and episodes like this and 'Ghost train', I think i'm getting better about how these guys really act._

_I hope you enjoyed this one, because it took WAY too long to figure out. I like how it came out though._

_NEXT TIME: Christmas of '63, a two-part story to wrap up Donald and Douglas's struggles, some closure for the Fat Controller, and more of the usual fights, drama, backstory and fun that you all love from SUDRIAN TRAINS!_

_;)_

_-HC712)_


	48. Christmas of '63: Part 1

**Chapter 48:**

December 23th, 1963, the day before Christmas Eve for any God-fearing man or Santa-loving child. The Engines celebrated Christmas too- though not fully understanding the reasons behind the holiday. They felt the spirit of the season and enjoyed caroling children, Christmas decorations, and the day off they were given on the 25th.

"It's not all about the presents and the decorations!" Edward chastized the twins of Brendam. "And you two could stand to learn to give instead of get!"

"Ah please Eddie." Bill rolled his eyes and scooted by him on the left side.

"We aren't greedy li''le engines like Thomas or Percy." Ben added.

"We're worse!" Bill laughed.

Edward shook his head and headed out of the Docks. Sidney shoveled coal as they whistled up the Branch-line. He had his snow-plow on after a heavy fall the past few days, all engines were required to. The cold cars made little trouble as he passed through Suddery and pushed through a pile-up of snow blown from nearby trees.

At Wellsworth he stopped for water and and relaxed as his tank was filled. Two identical whistles rang out and Edward feared for a second that Bill and Ben had followed him all the way from Brendam, but was relieved to see the twin, black bodies of Donald and Douglas approach him from Knapford, a coach between them full or workers and particularly large snowplows set on their buffers. Edward whistled to them as they passed and they echoed it before disappearing down the Main Line.

"How much longer till Hatt makes a call on those two?" Edward asked his driver, Sidney Heaver.

"It's hard to say." Sidney replied from the water-tower's side. "They've only stayed as long as they have because Gordon's been in the sheds for over a month. Hatt hasn't been able to get him a new driver, but I think as soon as he hires one…" Sidney trailed off, but Edward understood what he meant.

[]

"Losh sakes Henry! How'j'ya get unta shuch 'ah mess?" Donald yelled.

The twin engines had been called down to Kellsthorpe Road where Henry and the Express was wedged nicely into a massive snowdrift. Clearing the rails had been their original job, but rescuing Henry was now a priority.

Douglas pulled the Express coaches back to a siding while Barid Williams made sure the passengers were alright before they returned to help. The workmen in their coach shoveled out most of the snow, and Terrence the Tractor made his way over and helped too.

"Henry? Henry are you alright?" Terrence asked. Donald and Douglas looked up from the snow and at the worried face of the tractor. The Scots couldn't see Henry's face from where they sat, but Terrence made it clear that something was wrong with the big engine.

"Wass t' matta'?" Donald called.

Ted Brigham jumped out of the cab of the big engine and ran up to Henry's face. "Easy, steady Henry. It's alright!"

"Iz'e breathin'?" Douglas asked. "Williams, go ch'k 'im out, pleeze."

Baird and Barid Williams made their way up to the front of the long green engine, while Terrence trundled back to the twins. "I don't know what's wrong with him. He looks like he's having a panic attack. Breathing quickly, going red and crying, but I'm not sure what's wrong."

"It could be something to do with his crash last year." Terrence's driver: Farmer Finney offered. "The snow n' being stuck n' all, might remind him of that night." Donald and Douglas had heard of what the engines called 'The Flying Kipper Crash', and nodded as Finney explained: "His driver died in the accident, and it took him months to be repaired and sent home."

"We'll get him back to Tidmouth." Baird told Finney, and Donald heaved Henry back out of the snow while Douglas cleared the line up where he'd just been.

[]

Thomas smacked his snowplow against the rails. "It's so uncomfortable!" He whined.

"Oh hush up Thomas." "It keeps you from getting stuck like you have before!" Chastized his coaches, Annie and Clarabel.

"It's heavy and it bothers my buffers!" Thomas complained again.

He was puffing into Hackenbeck on his way down from Ffarquhar with a passenger train due for Knapford. He slowed as he reached the station, and groaned as he looked to the platform. Chloe Kyndley was there, waiting for Bob Hardy, Thomas's driver. The two of them were very awkward lovers, and Thomas was quite sick of their romance around him.

"Chloe!" Bob called. "H-how are you?" Bob tended to lose his nerve around her.

"I'm fine Bobby," Chloe giggled. "But my mother isn't feeling so well."

"Old Mrs Kyndley?" Annie asked. "What's wrong dear?"

Thomas leaned slightly to hear better, interested in the situation as long as it wasn't flirting. "Mother is simply sick. She often is during the winter. I dare say she'll be too sick to come to the Railway Christmas Party tomorrow night."

"Oh no!" Thomas gasped. He liked Mrs. Kyndley, as she'd saved him from an accident in the snow roughly a year ago as well. "Is there anything we can do?"

Chloe giggled her cute laughter again. "I'm afraid a train can't do much for a sick widow." Bob patted Thomas as the engine blushed. "But it will be a shame if she can't come, so thank you for offering Thomas."

The guard's whistle blew, and Bob pulled Chloe into Thomas's cab- a special treatment the Drivers liked to give their ladies whenever the opportunity allowed. Though Topham always disagreed with it, there was never a punishment for flirting on the NWR, no matter how much Thomas sometimes wished there was. He puffed off, attempting to block out the giggles and bad jokes from inside his own body and took to counting how many times he could get away with biffing his snowplow again.

But in the back of his mind, which he did indeed have, he was bothered that Mrs. Kyndley wouldn't be celebrating Christmas like she always had.

[]

Percy was in Tidmouth Yards when Henry and Donald returned to the sheds. He was clearing away snow from around the trucks and coaches while Duck was working at Knapford, and he was nearly done as the two engines came puffing in.

He peeped his whistle as they passed. "Good morning gents! Get all the snow cleared, did'ja?" He smiled as he said this, but the smile quickly faded as he took a look at Henry. "Goodness, what happened to Henry?"

"Easy no' Perce, ey'll tell ye 'un a momen'." Donald whispered as he rolled by.

Percy looked worriedly after them, and hurried around the side-track up by the sheds. Donald gently pushed Henry into his berth beside Gordon, who woke up lazily as he did. Ted Brigham got off the snow-dusted engine and looked Henry over as Donald backed to the turntable and approached Percy. "Go'h' stuck 'n sum snow-drif', 'un by th' time me 'n Douggie got t' him, 'e was cryin' and shakin' like nothin'."

Percy gasped. "What's wrong? Did you take him to Victor?"

"Yon works engine cannae fix th's, th's be a trubble wi'f 'is head, no'h' 'is body." Donald explained. "E's rememberin' tha' big crash 'e 'ad 's wha' 'is driva' sez."

"I see." Percy nodded and looked back to Henry.

Gordon and Ted were attempting to calm Henry down as this was happening. "Henry, look at me!" Ted called as Henry closed his eyes and shook again. "Look, I'm right here, I'm fine, you're fine, it'll be alright!"

Gordon watched with a twinge of fear as this was happening. "Is it the snow Henry?" He asked quietly. "Is it the Kipper? Is that it?"

Henry whimpered and nodded, and Ted pulled himself onto the big engine's bufferbeam and patted Henry's face. "It's ok Henry. You aren't hurt, and the snow won't hurt you in here."

Henry shook and breathed slowly. Gordon pushed himself with all the force he had and poked his head out of his shed. He couldn't move far without a fire lit, but he was far enough out now to see the two engines beside the shed. "Percy!" Gordon called, and the little engine looked up in surprise. "Go find Edward! We need Edward!"

Percy nodded and scampered off with another peep on his whistle. Gordon watched Henry for a moment longer, but couldn't come up with any sort of helpful word.

[]

"Thank you, have a good night." Sir Topham Hatt waved to the man as he walked out and closed the office door. Topham leaned back in his chair and rolled his neck. He'd just completed another pointless interview, desperately searching for a new driver for Gordon. The candidate that had just left his office was just other average joe, not fit for driving the grand Express Engine. Hatt sat back up and looked to the pile of papers on his desk. Among them sat a couple of other previous interview sheets, papers regarding Taxes on his railway, a letter from his jailed twin brother attached to a small package Topham had already opened, and two newspapers he had yet to touch. The latter objects drew Topham's attention as he recalled the last time he'd spoke to the infamous Jerry Jingle, and the way he felt he'd put down the tormentor for good.

Hatt picked up the top of the two newspapers. It was today's, and read nothing about the railway's problems whatsoever. World news from the new Italian Government, a fire on a cruise ship, and local news announcing the annual Railway Christmas Party was all to be found.

Hatt looked to the second one and stopped. He knew what it was and wasn't sure he wanted to read it again. The date was from earlier that year- February of 1963, to be precise. The picture showed Topham shaking hands with Her Majesty surrounded by the Drivers of the NWR, with James, Terrence and Edward smiling in the background. The article itself was folded beneath the front, but the Author's name was clear and bold beneath the title. **QUEEN ELIZABETH VISITS NORTH-WESTERN RAILWAY**: BY JERRY JINGLE.

Topham had found it on his porch today beside the real daily paper, and wasn't sure whether he wanted to read what slander Jerry had written on the visit from the queen.

A couple whistles rang out from the station outside his office. Thomas was stopping at the platform, with both Bob Hardy and Chloe Kyndley exiting his cab. Hatt rolled his eyes at the young love, only to feel a bit of a gut punch in remembering Ivo Hugh and Darcy Sand. He shook off the reminder and looked back at the interview papers on his desk, still yielding nothing. He rubbed his neck in exhaustion and pulled his hat and scarf off the hat-stand before heading outside.

[]

Percy, Duck and Edward sat on the far side of the Tidmouth yard they knew so well. Henry and Gordon were both now asleep in the sheds, and Donald had journeyed out to continue the Express with his brother. Edward had calmed Henry down, but noticed that Donald seemed on edge throughout the entire ordeal.

"Scrapping. Scrapping's on his mind and I can't blame him." Edward sighed. "He's afraid for himself and his brother, and we all know Topham's interviewing for Gordon's new driver."

"I saw a man leaving Hatty's office earlier today." Neil O'Heart, Percy's driver, confirmed. "But what can we do about the twins?"

"We want them to stay, so we've got to explain that to Hatt." Duck stated. "It's like I told the Big engines, despite their protests."

"The big engines are ridiculous, don't worry about their arguments to it." Edward laughed. "I think all we need is a Deputation."

"A dep-poo-what-a?" Percy snickered.

"A Deputation." Edward repeated. "It means we kindly and firmly ask the Fat Controller to do what we want."

"I don't know about that." Duck replied. "I recall that when I got here, Hatt made it pretty clear he wouldn't take orders from us engines."

"That's because you were causing '_Confusion and Delay_'" Elaine Peters, Duck's Driver, said the famous phrase in a mockingly deep voice and crossed eyes, making the tank engines laugh.

"But in all seriousness," Edward continued. "That was a different situation. You were fighting the big engines for control when Hatt just needed to be the one in charge. This is us helping him resolve a problem he's created for himself!"

"I like this idea!" Percy peeped.

"Good! Then you can go ask him!" Duck decided.

"AsK hAtTy!?" Percy yelped and buckled nearly right off the tracks.

"EASY PERCY!" Neil howled as he fell over inside the cab.

"Oh come off it Percy!" Shouted Sidney Heaver from Edward's cab. "All you've got to do is roll up to him and say it! Or Neil could…"

"I'm staying out of this." Neil replied nonchalantly.

"But it's Hatt!" Percy wailed. "He's intimidating! He might yell at me or, or threaten me or send me back! I don't want to go back there! Not again! NO!" Percy's voice became higher and more strained with each sentence, and he looked increasingly panicked. The other engines watched, concerned for him, as he backed up a little and drew quick, sharp breaths.

Edward pulled forward a little. "You're worried about being sent back… to the place Topham bought you from?" Percy nodded, seemingly scared of his own answer. Edward nodded and looked at Duck. "He doesn't have to be the one to ask. I'll ask him at the Christmas Party." All agreed, Edward and Duck backed out of the yards, and the Caterpillar engine was left alone with his driver.

[]

Donald and Douglas were exhausted as they pushed the Express into Knapford. It was a heavy train that took the both of them at full power to overcome Gordon's Hill. The passengers disembarked and the twin engines pulled away for the sheds.

"Lordy, I dinnae think i'h was so 'ard, eh?" Douglas chuckled through gasps.

"Ye'd been pullin' i'h fo' long'a than I!" Donald retorted with a heavy sigh. "Godred!"

"...Godred?"

"Ye, Godred. Sum auld king o' Sodur tha' the locals exclaim 'n replace o' th' name o' God."

"Huh, I 'adn't noticed."

The twins took turns on the turntable and pulled in beside the still-sleeping Henry and the watchful James. The Williams brothers headed out the back, and the engines settled in. "Hello scots!" He called as they pulled in. "Funny, with your black paint I mistook you for moving oil tankers in the yards!"

"Yeah yeah, ye love yer paint job." Douglas sniped back.

"What can I say?" James continued. "I'm a splendid and unique engine! Your paint just reminds me of that Diesel who ruined our railway. It's not a pretty color, Black."

"'S'cuse mae?" Donald shouted.

"Black is an evil color, don't you know! Villainous, Dark, never the colour of a hero in any book or cartoon!"

"Now tha's racist." Douglas snapped. "An' fer yer informat'n, mos' engines of our shape ar' paint'd black on the Caledonian Railway!"

"What about old Eagle? Huh?" James taunted.

The twins would have continued the fight, but Henry woke a little at the name of his old friend. "Eagle? What… what?"

James' entire demeanor changed like a lightswitch. From smug self-power to caring as he looked at the waking big engine. "Easy Henry, are you alright?" He asked softly.

The twins stared, utterly confused at the interaction. James took a moment to relax Henry back to sleep, then looked back to them. "Oh… what do you want?" his voice had a bite of contempt to it as he looked back to the scots.

The twins didn't speak for a moment, then laughed quietly. "Yer a funn'ay engine James." Donald announced. "I thoh' ye were jus' a jerk, bu' i'h looks like deep down, ye've got a good side, eh?"

"What do you mean by that?" James replied with a harsher tone.

But the twins only smirked at their new outlook on James and closed their eyes. James spluttered, confused, for a moment, but Geoffrey Black soon came and they drove off.

[]

Ffarquhar sheds are most often the quietest sheds on the island. That night, as the two tank engines and the old tram sat side-by-side in the warmth of the building, snow drifted peacefully over it and their yards, and the engines talked quietly, almost reverently as they watched it fall.

"It's nights like this I thank Lady I'm alive." Thomas sighed, his shed door wide open and a lantern hanging from it.

"Not trapped in some scrapyard on Man, or locked in a shed in a decaying branchline?" Toby suggested.

"Or hidden under a sheet in a scum-bucket o' lost engines?" Percy added.

"Yes, this is better than any life we would have had without Sir Topham Hatt." Thomas concluded. "None of us had all that great of a place to come from, huh?"

Percy nodded half-heartedly, still thinking of what he'd been tasked with earlier that day and the consequences he feared. "I don't want to go back there…." He whispered.

"And why would you?" Toby asked with a smile. "Sir Topham Hatt would never send us away so long as we keep being the really useful engines that we are!"

"Amen!" Thomas shouted, to shushing from the other two. "Sorry, but I can't help but feel good on wintry nights."

"Anyways, but what about Donald and Douglas?" Toby asked.

"What about them?" Thomas replied, his smile fading.

"Well, here we sit thanking the Goddess engine for our lives here, do we consider those less fortunate? Those in danger of being scrapped, or already have gone that way?"

Percy stifled a cry. He hadn't seen the problem that way either. He didn't want to be sent back to the shop, but did he consider that Donald and Douglas didn't want to go away either? They were in far greater danger of being sent away than him, why did he refuse to be Edward's deputy-or-whatever-he-said?

"What's more, we should look out for those without a warm shed or good controller this season." Toby continued. "It is Christmas after all, I think I'll try to invite Mavis to the Railway Christmas Party."

"Oh she'd love that!" Thomas agreed, both engines unknowing of Percy's internal battle beside them.

His boiler just warm enough, Percy puffed out of the shed and sat in the falling snow for a moment. Thomas and Toby paid him little attention, and the Caterpillar engine looked to the dark and peaceful skies. He knew the legends of Lady and heard engines pray to her before, but he'd never considered it himself. He also knew that men worshipped God, a deity Percy had never understood the concept of, but wondered if God answered the prayers of an Engine too.

"I need help." Percy whispered to the endless black night. "Whoever's out there, I need help!" He paused, considering his next words. "Christmas comes from religion, so it should be easy to connect to God or Lady or whoever at this time of year! ….so? ...can somebody help me?"

No answer came to the engine, but he wasn't sure what to expect from what he'd heard. Maybe a crack of lightning or a whistle off the mountainside, but nothing was heard. He sighed and rolled back into the sheds.

"Got cold did'ja?" Thomas chuckled. "The snow is nice tonight though."

"Are you alright Percy?" Toby asked.

Percy gave a small smile and looked at his two friends. "I think so." He lied.

[]

Far away over oceans and plains sat a little engine. Her caretaker sat beside her humming 'God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen' to her, and she smiled as she felt a cry for help.

"Burnett?" She asked the caretaker.

"Yes M'lady?" Burnett replied.

"Is it true that the Island of Sodor is entirely populated by my chosen children?" She asked.

Burnett smiled. "You know it is, why do you ask me?"

The engine thought it over. "I'd like to go there someday."

Burnett's smile turned sadder, but ever present. He looked away. "I haven't been there in a long time." He sighed.

"All the more reason I think." She replied.

He patted her boiler gently and stood. She looked at him pleadingly. "Perhaps soon, Lady."

**TO BE CONTINUED NEXT TIME:**

[]

[]

[]

_(1: Yeah, this took FOREVER to produce because I honestly just got really busy. Apologies, but I hope you all enjoy this._

_2: I hope this wasn't a super random chapter. I know I kind of jumped all over the place but I needed to set up a lot for next chapter, which you can expect to be massive! A lot of emotion was shown, I know, Henry has PTSD, Percy is torn between helping the scots and protecting himself, Thomas is learning to relate to his driver, James is basically bipolar, but, but it feels right for the engines to be really thinking about their past during the happiest time of the year_

_3: Lady is (Currently) still fully sentient. I have reasons and explanations coming up soon, but for now don't be bothered by it. _

_4: Did I overdo it on the religious bit at the end? I really felt like it works with the spirit of Christmas, and I'm just going to leave that part hanging. This has nothing to do with my personal beliefs, but after a certain conversation between Duck and Edward at the end of Chapter 38, I felt like a little more exploration of the subject was worth looking at. _

_And 5: Any questions? I explored a lot of the story and personalities of the engines here, and I hope you all still enjoy the story despite the unintentional hiatus. I will be putting the story on a short hiatus after the next chapter, but i'll be back in January, don't worry._

_Until next time! -HunterCreeper712)_


	49. Christmas of '63: Part 2

**Chapter 49:**

At long last, Christmas Eve had arrived to the Island. The railway was quite busy as last-minute gifts were loaded and unloaded from special mail trains and visitors flooded the express and passenger trains.

Gordon was enjoying himself greatly. After over a month of sitting alone in the shed, desperate for a bit of excitement, Ted Brigham had finally appealed to Topham to get him out on the line again. With Henry scared of the snow now, he was back to pulling the express, and pulled quickly out of the big station of Knapford with a particularly full train due for Vicarstown.

"How have you dealt with the past month anyway Gordon?" Ted asked as they thundered past the town of Knapford's furthest reaches.

"I haven't. I've begged every single one of the other engines to pull me out or find something for me to do." Gordon replied.

Ted laughed, though Gordon wasn't making a joke. He'd really had next-to nothing to do for the entire month except listen, mournfully, as the other engines talked about their days work. His one happy spot had come from a frozen little Sunday School class that had come caroling to him alone one evening, but that too had quickly faded into memory. He was just glad to be back out on the tracks.

At Wellsworth he stopped beside Edward, and whistled loudly in delight. "Edward! How are you old boy?" He asked.

"Wonderful!" Edward replied gleefully. "Christmastime always makes me happy, and I'm glad to see you're back out on the tracks!"

"Being the fastest engine on the island is essential to get the express done on Christmas day!" Gordon replied with no humility.

"Ah ha." Edward rolled his eyes. "You've been talking to James recently, haven't you?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Gordon asked, but had no time to hear a response as the guard blew his whistle and sent the Wild Nor' Wester on it's way again. "EXPRESS COMING THROUGH!" Gordon shouted triumphantly, and sped off down the main line.

[]

Meanwhile, on the branchline, Percy and Toby were being slowly awoken by Jim Hugh, Ivo's brother who'd taken over the Firelighter job, and yawned as they looked over the bright snow. "Where's Thomas?" Toby sleepily asked.

"Mr. Hardy already took him down the line early this morning." Jim told him. "I think they had some special early job to do."

"I wonder what that'd be?" Percy asked aloud, but his thoughts were muddled by the far more prominent problem on his mind. The night before (as detailed in the previous chapter) he'd found himself figuratively on his knees in prayer to whatever deity created living engines. He'd expected nothing from it, but in the night, something unusual had happened. Percy had had a dream. Or more specifically, a Nightmare

Engines don't have dreams normally. For some reason, they simply relive memories in their sleep rather than envision strange worlds like others might. Through the night, Percy hadn't seen the past. He'd seen what seemed like the future. His dream was short and simple. He'd dreamt that he'd refused to ask Hatt to keep the Scots, and Edward said that he would instead- Percy dreamt that Edward had fallen ill and was unable to ask Topham, and Topham had been forced to send one of the twins to the dreaded Isle of Man, where they were scrapped. The remaining twin became depressed for weeks on end, before finally stopped speaking, breathing, and became non-sentient like the Marklin Engine.

It was an awful vision, but it stuck with Percy. He was convinced now in his naivety and terror from the night vision that it was now his job alone to be the Depravation, or something like that.

"You alright Percy?" Neil O'Heart asked as he arrived at the sheds. "You look a little scared."

"He's had a strange night." Toby wisely put. "He sat out in the snow too long last night I think, then had a bad night of shakin' and moaning. Sounds like he recalled some pretty bad memories." Percy nodded as Toby and Crovan Alderich drove off into the yards, and he was left alone with his driver.

Neil looked at his engine with interest. "You don't talk much about your past." Neil remarked, and Percy nodded again. "I mean, I've told you all about my family and the things I've done. My parents and Sister are hardly a part of my life, I've slept with countless women, I've done some stupid things, but you don't talk much about your past. I only know you worked on the GWR and that Hatt pulled you out of a shoddy works back in England."

Percy shook a little as he breathed in. "I don't remember most of my past." he sighed. "That's part of why I'm so terrified to go back to that shop. I don't want to forget Sodor like I've forgotten so much while there."

Neil looked at Percy, who refused to meet his gaze. "I won't let that happen." He promised.

"That's kind of you Neil," Percy replied determinedly. "But I know now that I'm not the one in danger of being sent home."

[]

James was at the platform of Knapford waiting for his coaches. He was due to pull a train to Kirk Ronan shortly, and his passengers were congregated on the platform, waiting as well. "Where is that blasted bird of an engine?" James shouted, exasperated.

"Easy there Big Red." Duck laughed, bumping James harder than he should have with the coaches. "I'm always here, why should you be so huffy about a minute's delay?"

"Because Sir Topham Hatt expects the North Western Railway to run on time!" James snapped back. "Time's time, Hatt expects us to keep it!"

"Look here Fire-truck." Duck replied. "There's two ways of doing things. I won't bother you with the phrase, you know it as well as I. But The Great Western Way says I'm not late till the clock says I'm late. Now what does the clock say, James?"

Geoffrey Black laughed from inside James's cab, but James had to admit that Duck was right here. They weren't late yet, and he was yelling for no reason. "Oh go Quack at the trucks why don't you?" James snapped, and blew his whistle to say he was ready to leave.

Duck hummed and laughed a short and haughty. There was one thing he stood very little for, and that was mockery of his bird-related name. But he knew how to get under James' skin- or whatever passed for that gray mass of a face. "You know Douglas tells me you've been talking up a storm about their paint color." He teased. "Funny, considering how the record shows that you were once painted black."

Duck slipped out the back of the station as James shouted an angry and crushing response, or at least, he told himself it was a crushing response. Sir Topham Hatt stepped out of his office and gave James a warning look before the red engine set off, and behind him Topham found another unwelcome sight.

Jerry Jingle, who'd seemed to be MIA for the past month, was sitting casually on a bench on the opposite platform, numbered 6. He didn't look Hatt's direction, nor pull out a notebook to take note of James' insults, but simply sat, staring off toward Tidmouth with a sort of blank smirk.

Topham closed the door, not wanting to give the reporter an opportune moment. Instead he looked to his desk, where the months-old and unopened newspaper lay on his desk, the reporter's name glaring at him from the front cover. He was almost tempted to open the paper when there was a knock at his office door. "Come in." He called, and Neil O'Heart stepped inside the office. "Neil, what can I do for you?" He asked.

"Oh nothing for me, thank you though." Neil replied. "Percy has something to ask of ya."

Topham stepped back onto the platform and found the little caterpillar engine there, practically shaking where he stood. Hatt approached the scared engine and looked him in the eyes. "Well Percy?"

"Please Sir." Percy squeaked. "Sir I want to ask something sir. If you could, Sir, I want… well, Sir, the other engines asked me to, sir, and I-"

"What is it Percy?" Topham asked again, tired of the stuttering.

"Well Sir, Edward says we needed- needed a Desp-eration? no, Disputation?" Percy faltered again, but looked back to Hatt. "Sir, where us engines ask you, sir, to do something we think is for the better, sir."

"Percy, I think you've called me Sir 14 times in the last sentence. What is it?"

"Sir, we don't want you to send Donald and Douglas away." Percy sighed, and the shaking ceased suddenly. "We engines think it's best if you keep them both here on Sodor, regardless of what some stupid reporters might say. Uh, sir."

Percy kept an almost defiantly brave face as he said this, surprising both Topham and Neil. Hatt wasn't sure what to think of the sudden appeal from his engines. He nodded thoughtfully, then turned back to his office, confused.

"Well that went well." Neil remarked. "He didn't yell, I think you almost scared him!" Neil laughed, but Percy was unsure what do think as the Fat Controller wandered back into his office alone.

[]

"Thank you Terrence!" Thomas called to the tractor, who was busy clearing snow from the Cottage by Hackenbeck- The Kyndley residence.

"Clearing snow seems to be all I do for you, eh Thomas?" Terrence smiled.

Snow had fallen heavily in the night, and Bob was determined to help the Kyndleys (One of whom was his love, after all) come to the Christmas Party that night. Thomas and Bob had cleared their schedule for the morning, and Hatt had approved of the plan, so Thomas had left early that day with a flatbed to pick up Terrence, and then brought the tractor and his driver here. Bob Hardy and Chloe Kyndley were currently within the cottage, helping the elderly Mrs. Kyndley get ready for the day, and Farmer Finney was shoveling her walkway where Terrence wouldn't fit.

"Isn't it wonderful that Bob will go to all this trouble to help out someone he loves?" the old farmer chuckled.

"Sometimes I think he goes too far, but what would I know?" Thomas remarked.

The place was soon clear, and Terrence was gently pulled back onto the flatbed. Bob returned to his engine as they took the farmer and tractor to Knapford, and picked up Annie and Clarabel while there. It was time for his usual passenger train, but with a different catch this time. He stopped as usual at Dryaw, Elsbridge and Maithwaite, but before reaching Hackenbeck, he stopped once more at the cottage to pick up the two Kyndleys.

"It does feel good to help another out, doesn't it Thomas?" Annie said as the ladies boarded her.

"Tonight's party will be wonderful I think, unlike last year's party." Clarabel stated.

"Godred, don't remind me of the mess." Annie shuddered at the memory.

"Half of us were still depressed over Henry's departure." Clarabel reminded. "And poor Toby got so lost he ended up in Brendam Bay instead of Knapford!"

"This year cannot possibly be any worse than last year's." Thomas agreed. "It will be grand!"

[]

Donald and Douglas, having been working hard to keep the line clear all morning, were now on their way back down the main line to Knapford. Donald led, with a Work's coach between them and Douglas facing backwards, each with their massive and well-worn snowplows attached. They hardly spoke, exhausted from the work, till they stopped in Crovan's Gate for water.

"Th's sno'sn't any worse tha ay wus 'n Scotland!" Donald remarked.

"Bu' we dinnae haf as fa'h t' clear back 'n Scotland." Douglas reminded his brother. "Sodur's mainlin' 's ma'ch bigga' than whaer we work'd back 'ome."

"At least you boyos have snowplows!" Called a voice from near the station. "It's been so long since we could keep this line clear."

"Och! Whoo's thaer?" Donald shouted.

"You needn't shout, It's only little old me." The voice replied. Donald scanned the station, searching for it's owner. "Down here scottie." Donald looked over and discovered Skarloey sitting on his line, loading passengers into his coaches. "Hey, you found me!"

"Oo're'you?" Donald asked.

"Wha's goin' on up thaer?!" Douglas demanded from behind, unable to see ahead to the little engine.

"M'name's Skarloey." Skarloey replied. "Interesting, have you never seen one of us littler engines here?"

"Me'n me brotha' pass by ev'ry dae 'n Lord knows I 'aven't seen ye." Donald replied. "Yer tiny! I've naught even noticed yon tracks!"

Skarloey laughed a little, and Douglas bumped the coach between them protesting. "'Oo is it?" Douglas demanded again.

"I's a narrow-gauge engine named Ska'lowy, Douggie!" Donald shouted back. "Now shut it so I can 'ear 'im speak!"

"Hello Douggie." Skarloey teased. "Twin engines, eh? Reminds me of some engines that used to run on the Mid-Sodor, but they're long gone. Keeping busy?"

"Eh, this snow's killin' me wheels, tha's all." Donald would have shrugged if he had shoulders. Baird Williams jumped inside his cab and let up on the Driver's brake to let them set off. "Well, noice t' mee'cha Ska'lowy, Ay'll keep 'n eye out fer' ya nez' time I pass, alright?"

"Goodbye gents!" Skarloey replied, and the twin engines passed.

Douglas finally got a look at Skarloey as they passed. "Och, wha' a li''le thing!"

[]

Much later that day, Knapford Station was decorated beautifully. Christmas trees and lights had already been strung up for the holiday traffic, but now there was more set up than before, and Alfred the workman was hanging a large Christmas star from the front of the station's glass roof.

"A little to the left Alfred!" Duck suggested as he worked.

Just then, Thomas pulled in with Annie and Clarabel. He wheeshed steam at Alfred, frightening him into knocking the star from its perch down onto the tracks below. Thomas laughed to himself, but Annie and Clarabel gasped.

"Thomas!" Duck chastized.

"What?" Thomas snickered in reply. "I'm sorry, but Alfred's not hurt, and the silly star isn't broken either, what's the big deal?"

"That star is the Star of Knapford." Bob explained, disembarking his engine alongside the passengers. "Old stories say it has wishing powers, that those who believe in the magic of Christmastime will be granted one wish by it."

"Oh, that's just a copy of the Legend of Proteus!" Duck snapped. "I don't care if it's got powers or not, it's still a pretty thing, I don't want it damaged!"

"Godred, sorry! Sorry." Thomas apology was forced and exasperated, but no one pushed him any more. Bob went to help Alfred hang the star again as Gordon pulled in from Tidmouth, preparing for the last Express before Christmas. "Evening Gordon, how are you?"

"Never better Thomas! I feel so alive, back on the tracks like this!" Gordon responded with huzzah. "This is the last train of the night, and I intend to make it the fastest yet!"

"You'd better be quick if you want to make it back in time for the Christmas Party!" Duck reminded as he pushed the Wild Nor' Wester Coaches into place behind Gordon. "I'm quite excited to see what's in store tonight!"

"So long as it's better than last year." Thomas reminded.

"Ugh. Don't remind me Thomas." Gordon shuddered. Ted Brigham climbed aboard the Express engine and there was an awkward moment of silence as Thomas watched. Ted Brigham's history of a driver was spotless, but how he'd gotten to this point was tainted with the tragedies of the railway. After all, he was only hired after Old Bailey's death, and now was working with Gordon as a result of Charlie Sand's firing. Two of the original three drivers, at least from Thomas's point of view, were now in a way replaced by Ted Brigham. "Express coming through!" Gordon shouted, and he set off into the rapidly darkening sky.

"Guests will be here soon, can you help me clear the yards a little for the party Thomas?" Duck requested.

"Just pushing the troublesome trucks into Tidmouth Yards instead, right?" Thomas confirmed.

"That's what the Fat Controller asked for." Duck nodded, and the two of them rolled into the sidings.

[]

[]

_(Hi all. This one cuts off a bit too quickly but here's the situation. On my Google Docs where I write these, I usually make these chapters 6 pages long. Well, this christmas Chapter was pushing past 12, so I've split it up. Here's what I'm going to do. This chapter is a set-up for next time, where I will show the actual party and the results thereof, and I'll release that one probably tomorrow. Then I will do one short episode on either the 25 or 26 that I will show the engine's Christmas morning and give you all a taste of what's to come, as well as I'll answer the reviewers questions there. Thanks for sticking with my story, Sorry this one's gotten weird. All questions and suggestions in the reviews, I'll get back to you as promised in episode 51. _

_Till next time: Hunter._


	50. Christmas of '63: Part 3

**Chapter 50:**

"Ev'nin' Henry!" Douglas called as the twins entered Knapford. "Feelin' betta' today?"

"Much, thank you Douglas." Henry replied. "If you could help me out of the shed, that'd be greatly appreciated."

"We'll do ye one betta'! Barid! Hop aboard th' big engine!" Donald ordered his driver. Barid Williams did as he was asked and climbed into Henry's cab to start his fire, and Douglas pulled his brother away from the sheds and helped him back to Knapford.

[]

Toby and Henrietta were done working for the night, but they weren't headed to Knapford just yet. They presently were climbing the foot-hills of Mt. Anopha, pointed toward the Quarry.

"Remind me again why this is a good idea?" Henrietta demanded. "After all, I think she's made it clear she wants nothing to do with you!"

"But I want her to join us." Toby replied. "Like we said last night, no one should be alone on Christmas Eve, and she is just as entitled to come down the mountain as we are!"

"Actually Henrietta," Crovan whispered from the back of the cab, "I think Toby has a teeny crush on the diesel." He snickered as he said this, but Henrietta was suddenly appalled at the concept.

As they at last entered the work place, they found it mostly deserted. Few cars scattered the yard, and even fewer workmen were moving about the quarry. Crovan stopped Toby at the Quarry manager's office and went to talk to Jabez Croarie, and the tram and his coach wandered further into the snow-covered mountain.

Toby found the shed in the back, but Mavis wasn't there. He looked around for a moment before finding her, alone in the snow, sitting beside a large hole in the ground, looking into the distance off the mountain. Toby gently clanged his bell as he rolled up beside her. "Mavis."

"Toby, what a surprise." Mavis said somewhat rudely, though not as rude as her tone had often been lately. Her face was blank and she didn't look at him as he stopped, continuing to stare away into the snow.

"I've come to invite you to the Christmas Party down at Knapford Station." Toby declared. "All the engines are going to be there, and lots of people from all over Sodor will-"

"No thank you." Mavis replied, looking down at the pit in front of them. "I don't want to go."

Toby stared for a moment. "Why not?" He asked, utterly confused. Mavis continued to stare into the pit. Toby looked at it too, and suddenly remembered what it was. "This is that mine-shaft Thomas fell into, isn't it?" Mavis nodded. "I tried to pull him out, but he was too heavy for an old engine like me."

"An old Tram like you?" She added, but putting extra emphasis on 'Tram'.

Toby might have been mad over the semi-racist comment, but chose to ignore it. "The view up here is wonderful. I can see Knapford and Tidmouth and the main line and the sea… I can see why you like sitting right here."

"You've been to those places of course." Mavis retorted.

"And you could too!" Toby came back out of his stupor. "Come down right now and meet some more engines! See places like Knapford!"

"I don't want to." Mavis replied. "Maybe seeing the towns would be nice, but not the engines."

Toby concentrated. "Because we're all steamies, right?" He asked, and she looked away. "Because you think we'll all be racist and make comments about you being a diesel?"

Mavis waited a second to respond. "Blackbird came, but you sent him away. The only diesel on your mainline, and you sent him away. How could I not expect you to be racist to me? How could you think I would say I wanted to come tonight?" And with that, she slid backwards into her shed, and looked as far away from Toby as she could. Toby turned himself around to see her, but she defiantly kept from looking at him.

"I'm sorry Mavis." Toby sighed. "I wish you would come."

Crovan Alderich and Jabez Croarie approached Toby and Henrietta, with a much different demeanor. "I'm glad we brought Henrietta, these other workers need a ride down to the party as well!" Crovan laughed, then he saw his engine's face. "I take it she said no?"

"Emphatically." Toby replied, still watching the diesel from a distance.

The other workmen boarded Henrietta, but Jabez walked over to Mavis and spoke to her. Toby tried not to watch, worried the manager might have been scolding her for refusing. Crovan shoveled a bit of coal into Toby's fire and rang the bell to Jabez. "We're leaving, are you coming?" Toby called to them.

"Go on ahead!" Jabez replied. "I'll be driving Mavis down!"

Toby silently cheered for himself. Henrietta seemed unimpressed, but Toby decided not to be bothered by it.

[]

The party had somewhat begun back at the big station. Bertie and Edgar Buses were busy bringing people in from nearby towns, and James and Edward were just unloading the last group from the branch lines. Thomas, Percy, Duck, Henry, Donald and Douglas all sat in the yards, watching as the people mingled about greeting each other and singing carols with the brass band Sir Topham Hatt had hired. Trevor was enjoying as children sat and listened to his stories, with Terrence listening in as well. The Hatt's grandchildren played alongside others on the small ice-pond near the station, with Lady Hatt watching them with eagle eyes. The star of Knapford hung over the whole celebration, shining like the sun. It was a splendid scene for all.

"Ooh, look out!" Duck laughed as he was hit in the tank by a pair of snowballs from a nearby fight.

"I wonder where the drivers got off to?" Henry asked, scanning the crowd.

"The Williams' headed aff t' the M. C. BUNN store iy think?" Donald said. "Neil 'n Elaine ran aff when th' snowballs came flyin', but Bob seems t' be enjoyin' himself!"

"Where is he?" Thomas asked, looking over the crowds. To no one's surprise, he was sighted on the platform, dancing with Chloe Kyndley to the music from the band. "Ugh." Thomas groaned.

"Oh enjoy it Thomas!" Duck laughed. "Maybe one day you'll find a nice female engine to cuddle in the sheds on a cold winter's night!"

"Sure Duck, as soon as I meet a female steamie, we'll see." Thomas retorted, still annoyed at his driver's ridiculous love life. However, he did think Duck made a point. Perhaps one day, he'd find his own Chloe to share a shed with.

"Say, where's Toby?" Henry asked.

"He went up Mt. Anopha right before this party started." Percy replied. "But I don't know what he's doing up there."

"Didn't he say he wanted to bring Mavis down to the party?" Thomas suggested. "He might have gone up the diesel's place."

"Did you say Diesel?" James asked, rolling over to his co-engines with his jobs now done for the night. "We sure showed him, didn't we?"

"Oh sure, cuz you chased him up the branchline." Thomas growled.

"You got your face shoved through a building." Duck added.

"Ok! So you helped." James conceded. "But it was I who pinned him down in the Vicarstown yard, running like a fool back to the mainland."

"Oi, You were only the decoy!" Henry snapped back. "I pinned him down when you went around the front- Gordon brought Hatt and August where I kept him!"

"Soun's like a fight!" Donald laughed.

"Do tell?" Douglas pried.

"Oh it's easy to catch an Engine if you know what you're doing, especially a Diesel." James laughed haughtily.

"Oh don't boost his ego, please." Duck sighed.

[]

"My funnel feels wobbly." Peter Sam complained. "Still doesn't feel right since the accident at the mine."

"Oh, ask Santa Claus for a new one then!" Sir Handel retorted.

"Oh, I haven't asked Santa for presents before. Does he take requests from engines?" Rusty asked, the little engine's far-away glance ever present.

"Oh please, ask Hatt, he'd be more likely to give you a new funnel." Duncan griped. "Now go to sleep, blast it."

"Relax Duncan." Skarloey chastized. "It's Christmas Eve, we can stay up a little while. Didn't engines ever stay up and talk on your old railway?"

"I lived alone on me old railway." Duncan growled. "Now shut up and sleep already."

Needless to say, a newcomer had come to the Skarloey Railway, and one that had a particular bad attitude. He'd arrived only a few days ago, and had spent the time in the works being fitted to work on Sodor, and he had not enjoyed the experience. He was supposed to be a Christmas present to the Skarloey Engines, but he'd become a sort of Christmas nightmare instead. But more on him a different time, let's get back to the party

[]

"That's right!" James laughed loudly. "Diesel's are nothing to Steam Engine's worth!"

"Blast'em all t' th' scrapyard!" Donald cheered.

"Remember Eagle!" Henry shouted.

"Oh c'mon guys." Duck rolled his eyes. "Not all Diesel's are that bad."

"Aren'choo th' one 'oo go'h 'imself run throo' a wall by a Diesel?" Douglas reminded.

"Technically that was the trucks who pushed me through the wall." Duck replied. "And though it was Diesel's plan, I still don't hate him for it. I'm sure there are plenty of Diesels that are perfectly respectable!"

"Indeed there are!" Shouted a voice from the main line, and Toby and Henrietta slowly rolled into the party. The crowd parted to allow room for the tram to stop, and the workers disembarked his old coach as he stopped. "And I'd much prefer you boys to stop this ghastly slander toward Diesel-kind, seeing as how I've brought one down from Mount Anopha."

"You brought Mavis!" Percy exclaimed. "Where is she?"

"Coming shortly, I decided it was best if I hurried here to prevent a misunderstanding, right Thomas?" Toby asked, and Percy and Thomas nodded knowingly.

"Well then. I'd like to see a Diesel try to impress me." James snootily declared, watching the main line as horn tooted nearby.

[]

Bill and Ben were shouting a rousing and rude parody to 'Joy to the World', which the band was now hesitantly playing. Sir Topham Hatt stepped past them, ignoring the various Teenagers and Norramby's that were joining their chorus and moved between the crowd. Various people bid hello, including the likes of old Mrs. Kyndley, Farmer Mccoll, and the Vicar of Ffarquhar. Travis the Butler passed by, carrying a tray of sandwiches as a server. Topham had tried to convince Travis not to play the butler role on Christmas eve, but he had insisted.

Suddenly, a hand fell on his shoulder. Hatt turned to see Tom Tipper the mailman. "Evening Tom." Hatt greeted him.

"Sir." Tom nodded. "Some late mail came in for you just as I was hoping to leave. It said 'Urgent', so I figured it was best to bring it along for you!"

"Why thank you!" Topham smiled. "You're a dutiful Mailman, aren't you!"

"Always! Like when Mr. Jingle asked me to specially deliver an old newspaper to your manor a few mornings ago."

Hatt was taken aback for a moment. He'd forgotten all about the outdated newspaper sitting on his desk, still unread. "Jerry Jingle sent it himself?" Hatt asked.

Tom only smiled and wandered off to find his wife. Sir Topham Hatt looked down at the letter he'd been given, trying to distract himself from the new information. Indeed, it said 'Urgent' on the front, but the name was a shock for the Fat Controller to see.

"Earl Robert Norramby" Topham whispered. "Damn."

[]

Mavis had expected a little flirting, despite her engine-type, from the other engines at the party. She'd expected to hear some snark about being either a female or a Diesel. She'd basically expected the worst. The worst was not what she got.

"Cor." James whispered as she pulled smoothly into the sidings.

"At last we meet!" Henry smiled as she stopped beside him. "The name's Henry, how are you miss?"

"Oh, I- I'm fine." Mavis sheepishly replied. Thomas nodded in hello but was busy talking to the GWR engine beside him- whom she assumed was Duck based on what little she heard of the main line's news.

Jabez hopped from her cab and merged into the crowd, and Mavis looked back up to see Toby, having turned around on a turntable in Knapford yards, approaching her with a kind face. "Well Mavis, what do you think?"

"It's… a lot to take in." She admitted under the curious eyes of nearly every engine around her.

"It's alright Mavis, you're not the first new face we've had recently." Henry reassured her. "Heck, everyone here save myself is technically new to the NWR."

"Oi, I ran the SSR for years!" James snapped. "I've been here for a long time!"

"It's not like any of us are very young." Percy added. "Been around for few years, we all have. How old are you miss?"

Mavis hesitated, but Toby cut in. "It's rude to ask a woman's age Percy!"

"I'm sorry!" Percy replied. "I was just curious!"

"He's fine." Mavis reassured. "I was built last year."

The Scots spluttered in unison and Percy laughed. Mavis felt her face growing hot, wishing they would all stop staring at her.

"Las' year- tha's wen ta 'ole o' Scotland star'd building Diesel's e'reywhere." Donald mumbled distastefully.

"Diesel's have certainly topped steam in terms of production recently." Toby added.

"Gotten weird 'uns too." Donald agreed. "Like tha' 'un tha' go' Eagle- wi'f th' claw!"

"A claw you say- Do you know anything about Diesel's like that Mavis?" Thomas asked.

Mavis scoffed. "What? I'm supposed to know everything about Diesel's just because I'm one?"

"Easy- I didn't mean that. I was just wondering!"

"It's alright Mavis." Toby calmly told her. "No need to be defensive."

Mavis scoffed again and honked her horn. People nearby moved as she backed away suddenly.

"Wait!" James called. "Come back!"

"Forget it James." Toby sighed, watching Mavis scoot backwards down the main line. "She's a stubborn girl. I pushed her too hard to come tonight."

"Wha'd ye do tha' fer?" Donald demanded.

"'F she waz uncomfortable, why'd ye bring 'er?" Douglas agreed.

Toby sighed and looked down. The other engines rolled their eyes but James had to butt in, as always. "Well that's what you get, you think you're so smart Toby. It's a shame too, she was rather pretty."

[]

Mavis rolled slowly backwards, trying to find the Ffarquhar junction. She wanted to get away from the other engines, but fate had other plans for her. A loud whistle rang out behind her, and she skidded to a halt. She looked around, but there wasn't a crossing nor siding to scoot onto, and she knew she was on the wrong track.

She raced ahead, but she would never be faster than the Express engine. "Look out!" Gordon cried, slowing to meet her pace. Their buffers touched for moment and she revved on, Gordon following behind her.

"Hurry up you!" He demanded. "I've already been delayed in Vicarstown, and I'm not missing much more of the party!"

"Oh you aren't missing much up there- its a drol." Mavis replied, pushing every ounce of strength she had into staying ahead of him.

"A female…" Gordon whispered, surprised, then cleared his throat. "And where were you going?"

"What does it matter, steamie?" Mavis retorted, angry she was being forced back to where she didn't want to be. "You all think you're better than me, despite Diesel-kind being revolutionary."

"Did I say I was better than you?" Gordon demanded.

Mavis slowed again as she thought, and Gordon biffed her by mistake again. "Easy, speedy." Mavis snapped. "Let's just get back to the station and I'll be out of your way.

[]

Topham had only one person on his mind, but it wasn't who you might think. No, he wasn't searching for his tormentor Jerry, but instead his old friend whom he desperately needed to speak to.

Sidney Heaver sat atop his engine's buffer beam inside the station, laughing as they watched a drunken signal man scare off several women in his attempts to flirt. Hatt approached them on the platform and Sidney slid off of Edward. "Hello Topham."

"Enjoying the party Sidney?" He asked the old driver.

"It's quite a show, much better than last year's." Sidney remarked. "But you didn't come searching for me jut to ask if I liked the party, now did you?"

"Perceptive as always Sidney." Hatt smiled. "Edward, will you excuse us? You can go join the others on the sidings if you wish."

"Oh I'd just as soon stay over here sir, seeing as how James is over there." Edward laughed. "But you can go ahead."

Sidney patted Edward's footplate and walked with The Fat Controller to the outside of the station, away from the party. "Out here?" Sidney asked as Hatt led him away.

"I don't want overheard by certain relatives, if you understand." Topham replied, and Sidney understood in an instant.

"The Norrambys. You're talking about Rob."

"Exactly. I've received another of his ridiculous letters!" Topham whispered sharply. "He's working on the Bluebell Railway right now and says he's found another source."

"Another source? I thought we'd established that the portal in Kirk Ronan was the only source!"

"That's what my grandfather thought too, but he was helped by that American, whom Robert claims had his own source back in the states. Now the crazy codger has gone from searching for the origin of the sentient vehicles to these apparent 'Sources.'"

"The Bluebell Railway is far too obscure and small right now. Why isn't he searching on the GWR? Or LNER?"

"Like I would know. But it gets worse, he thinks he's being followed."

"By who?"

"...It's impossible. I fully believe he's gone crazy from this research."

Sidney stared. "Who is following Robert?"

There was a tense pause.

"He thinks he's seeing Pete, everywhere."

Sidney stared even harder, unable to comprehend what he'd heard. "Boomer?"

Gordon's whistle rang out at the station, and Hatt turned to look back at the party. "Look, we'll have to discuss this later. Gordon's arrived and I know he's bringing a few special guests, and Harold will be here soon with Santa. Please don't mention this to anyone else."

"I always liked Robert, a bit of a funny character." Sidney recalled. "I'll keep it to me'self." Hatt nodded and began to walk away, but Sidney stopped him. "Wait, I just remembered- Edward has something he wants to talk about!"

"Alright, but it'd better be quick." Hatt replied. He walked back out to the platform, where Edward was greeting the last Express passengers. Topham noticed Mavis and Gordon talking at the head of the train, but he ignored their conversation as he moved to where he was requested. "Edward, how do you do?"

"Good evening sir!" Edward replied. "Can I ask something of you?"

"That's what I'm here for it seems, after what Percy was asking about this morning."

Edward tilted his head. "Percy asked… The Deputation?"

"Oh is that what he was trying to say?" Hatt laughed. "He stumbled over the word a bit, but I got the point. You're also asking for the twins to be kept on the line I assume."

"Y-yes sir." Edward was confused. "I'm sorry- I thought Percy made it clear he was terrified of asking you!"

"Oh he was." Topham replied. "But he did indeed ask, and I must say, it cleared my mind on the matter. In fact, since all my engines are here…"

Sir Topham Hatt directed Gordon and Mavis around the platforms, despite some slight protest from Mavis, and called the engines to attention. "Excuse me, if I could have your attention?" The crowds quieted and the band finished their song, and Bill and Ben laughed off their latest rude parody as the Fat Controller waited. "Thank you- I think. I'd like to say- It has come to my attention that people have begun to disagree with the way I'm running my railway."

"You can say that again." called a disgruntled voice from the crowd, to some slight murmuring agreement.

Hatt waved it off. "I understand that there are those who want things differently- including my own engines. It has come to my attention that there is some confusion as to the way I've acquired some of them, but it's time I be frank with the passengers and visitors of my railway. I've done nothing illegal, I've made precautions after every incident, and I know how to continue to run my business without the opinions and reports of others." He looked to Donald and Douglas, who were hanging onto his every word literally for dear life. "Two of my engines, as alive as I am, have approached me, asking me to keep these new twin engines, despite their unusual circumstances regarding how they arrived. I take orders from no-one, but in the case of their Deputation, I will be taking their advice. If my passengers disagree with this, I ask them to keep their voices out of the paper."

"Wait Sir, does th's mean-" Donald began.

"We're stayin'?" Douglas asked.

"Yes."

A chorus of whistles and many cheers erupted through the crowd. Hatt looked around and realized something he hadn't before. There were people who didn't like the railway. There were people like Jerry Jingle who disagreed with his system. But there were others- a sort of Silent Majority, who had never been concerned by his methods, and also thought Jerry Jingle was nothing more than an overexcited reporter who was ready to report anything different to make a bit of fame.

Then a buzzing noise filled the ears of every party-goer, and all eyes looked up to see Harold the Helicopter descending slowly to the yards. Percy rolled his eyes at the sight of him, but the children cheered and laughed as the noisy machine landed in a designated spot beside the tracks and let his single passenger off- the jolly present-bearer himself, Santa Claus. But the old saint was too familiar to be the legend himself, and Sidney laughed at the sight of him. "You bailed your brother out for this?"

"Couldn't leave him in jail, plus I knew he'd like a job like this." Topham admitted.

Lowham Hatt, disguised as Santa, drew out a large back of Candy-canes and passed them to every attendant of the party, including all of the engines.

The Fat Controller felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to find a special passenger from the Express, the disgraced Charlie Sand. "Hello Sir." He quietly said, unsure if he was even welcome.

Hatt looked him over for a moment, then extended his hand. "There's no better driver for the express." Topham conceded. "We both lost our tempers that night, but I think it's time we put that in the past and make up as old friends should."

"I'm glad you feel the same Topham." Charlie sighed, shaking the Fat Controller's hand. Sidney embraced his fellow driver and they wandered off to join the Sand Family- however still missing their daughter- and went off into the crowd.

[]

The brass band was loudly playing 'We Wish You a Merry Christmas' as the party continued into the night, and a few of the engines began to give in. Mavis had left shortly after Sir Topham Hatt's speech, and Edward had turned in shortly after, staying in the Tidmouth side-shed for the night.

"It's been a night for me lads." Duck decided. "I'm headed back to Tidmouth, care to join me Henry?"

"I'll stay out a little longer, Goodnight Duck." Henry replied.

"Christmas is a day off for all of us, right?" James asked.

"What would we be doing on the rails without drivers and signalmen anyway?" Thomas laughed. "Of course James- and Hatt will be bringing gifts around I've been told!"

"Sounds lovely- a day off." Percy sighed.

"That's all I've had for the past month!" Gordon whined. "But at least you gents will be in the sheds as well."

"Glad t' be ov serv'se." Donald laughed.

They paused for a moment to watch children taking turns on Santa-Lowham's lap asking for presents, till Toby broke the silence.

"But you know what still bothers me?" Toby asked.

"The inevitability of Death?" Henry replied, dead-beat.

"Godred- no!" Toby chuckled. "It does seem a little racist, having no diesels on the main line."

"Oh not this again." James groaned. "Always you and the racism, eh Toby?"

"It comes with my kind i'm afraid." Toby snapped. "But am I wrong to say that a diesel in the yards or on the main line would be very useful? And with Hatt taking suggestions now-"

"Don't you dare Toby." Henry snapped.

"Aft'a wut we've seen in Scotland, trust us t' say ye don' want that fer Sodur." Douglas agreed.

"Not all Diesels are bad!" Gordon declared. "Mavis is a respectable girl, after what I've seen of her tonight."

"Ooh i'd like to see more of her if you get what I'm saying." James snickered.

"I'm going to pretend I didn't just hear that." Thomas shut his eyes in denial.

"No, I don't get it." Percy replied.

"You lucky, innocent little engine." said Thomas.

"Shut up James." Toby stated. "I'm serious."

"'N we're serious too." Donald said, with Douglas nodding beside him. "Diesel's on Sodur could ruin e'rething ye've got 'ere-"

"N' by tha' we mean a Steamie Safe-'aven." Douglas finished.

Toby sighed. "Alright. Alright, I'm going home." Toby left Henrietta with Annie and Clarabel in the yards and rolled away.

The other engines continued to chat till the party died off, each wishing a Merry Christmas before slowly returning, with what little steam they had left after the night, to their sheds for the night. Snow fell softly across the island, and children listened for sleigh bells and hoofbeats as they fell asleep.

[]

[]

_(Ok, so when I said I was going to post this on the 23rd, what I meant was that was what I WANTED to happen, but celebrations of my own have clogged up my usual time for writing. So here's this half-arsed promise. Imma post the last chapter of the season- Sodor's Christmas Morning- sometime before the new year. That's where, as I said, I'll reply to review questions and wrap up one last storyline before I go on hiatus for about the whole of January. I'll have a new chapter out by at least Valentine's, and it'll all be fun from there on out! _

_Again, this chapter sort of bounced all over the place and I'm sorry about that, but I needed to finish out a lot of plotlines so that's what I've got. I hope you enjoyed regardless and despite the delay. _

_Merry Christmas -HunterCreeper712_


	51. Christmas Morn of '63

**Chapter 51:**

Thomas opened his eyes slowly. Without a firelighter stoking his fire, it was a lot harder to muster up the will to open his eyes. But there was a noise outside his door that was bothering him. He looked to each side where Percy and Toby gradually awoke as well, and the noise grew louder, louder, and then suddenly stopped. "Wha's that?" Percy mumbled.

"Sounds a bit like a lorry to me." Toby replied.

Suddenly, the shed door in front of Thomas opened, and there stood Sir Topham Hatt, his smart blue car behind him, and he was beaming and red from the cold. "Merry Christmas my engines!" He declared.

"What are you doing here sir?" Percy asked, waking up a little more.

"It's Christmas Day, shouldn't you be with your own family?" Toby asked.

"Of course, which is why I'd like to make this quick." Hatt replied, stepping further inside the sheds. "What would each of you like for a Christmas present?- from me, that is."

Thomas was taken aback, and Percy and Toby seemed equally surprised. "You didn't ask us this last year." Thomas recalled.

"Things were different last year." Hatt replied. "But this year I'm inquiring of each of you this morning what it is I can do to improve you and the railway."

The three engines looked at each other in confusion, before Toby spoke up. "Well sir. I'd like a sort of different coat of paint, if you please."

"Different how?"

"I think Henrietta and I should be the same colour of brown, which we haven't been, and it'd be a nice detail if my cow-catcher had the letters 'NWR' on it, like trams I knew that had 'GER' or 'LNER'."

"That's a good request Toby, I'll see what I can do about that." Sir Topham Hatt nodded, then looked to the two Tank engines. "What about you two?"

"It'd be grand to be rid of my snowplow." Thomas mumbled, looking at the drifts piling up on the track outside. "But if you could find a way for it to be more comfortable, I'd be happy with that too."

Sir Topham Hatt chuckled a little at Thomas's request, and nodded before turning to Percy.

The little caterpillar engine thought hard about it. Thomas and Toby had both had sensible requests, but try as he might, Percy was hard pressed to think of a thing he wanted. Hatt had already granted his wish to keep Donald and Douglas a part of the North-Western Railway, and he'd never scared him like his past controllers had. What more could Percy want?

"Nothing sir." Percy finally decided. "I've got everything an engine could want."

[]

"_Merry Christmas m'Lady." Burnett greeted the legendary engine as he stepped into the hidden workshop. "Anything I can get you from Shining Time?"_

"_No thank you Burnett." Lady replied. "I am content today."_

_Burnett nodded and moved to a workbench nearby, fiddling, as always, with the stolen Conductor's Whistle. As much Gold Dust as Lady produced for it, it never seemed to activate, much to Burnett's annoyance._

"_Burnett, last we spoke, we discussed the idea of returning to the Island of Sodor-" Lady began._

"_Beg pardon," Burnett interrupted. "But I still don't think that's any kind of good idea."_

"_If only to reassure of my existence!" Lady objected._

"_Diesels live there now- and all over! Living Diesels, like the prophesied destroyer." Burnett reminded. "And there's more. I found out just yesterday that The British Railways, in all of it's grand intelligence, has officially rolled out a new kind of Diesel- which exactly resembles the one we fear."_

_Lady pondered this. "I have felt a dark presence rising." She admitted. "What does this Diesel look like?_

"_The new Diesel Sub-Class is a modified Class 42 'Warship' class, but with a unique detail on it. There's a claw attached to it's roof- used for line-clearing and scrapping. They call it the 'Battleship' class. The first of its kind used it's claw to prevent a train robbery by crushing the criminals."_

"_The claw is attached to it's roof?" Lady asked again. "How many are there?"_

"_Only 5 are on the rails right now, and only one of them is sentient, but there are at least 7 more in development."_

_Lady sighed and looked to the single window in the wall. "Then the prophecy will come true."_

"_It can't. And that's why we're here Lady, in America, where these 'Battleships' can't get to you."_

_[]_

"That's easy sir!" James laughed. "Another coat of paint? Another polish perhaps?"

"Godred James, you're worse than Henry ever was." Gordon grumbled.

"At least I haven't boarded myself up in a tunnel, eh?" James sniggered.

"Alright, enough of that." The Fat Controller laughed. "That's a fair request." He turned to look to the others, all of whom were thinking about what they might like. "Henry- I actually have something specific for you."

From within his heavy overcoat, Hatt produced a slightly crumpled package that he'd received from Lowham a few weeks back. He approached the big green engine and opened the package to reveal a single, standard bolt. "This is for you." He told Henry.

"Umm…. Thank you sir?" Henry replied awkwardly.

Topham laughed. "Don't worry Henry, this isn't just any bolt."

"Oh, whew." Sighed Henry. "I didn't want to be rude, but any old bolt was not the best gift you could give an engine."

"Indeed." Hatt agreed. "This bolt was stolen by my brother from a scrapyard he was trespassing in. Usually I don't thievery or anything my brother does, but the scrap yard in question was a certain Scottish yard- manned by a newly-built 'Battleship' Diesel."

Donald gasped. "It cannae be!"

Douglas' eyes widened in realization as Hatt turned the bolt to reveal a bit of red paint on the head. Henry gasped now too. "This belonged to Eagle, and it was all Lowham could obtain before he was caught and arrested."

The other engines watched somewhat reverently as Hatt set the package in Henry's cab. "I hope that's a decent gift."

Henry's tear-filled eyes said Thanks enough, and Hatt looked to Gordon and Duck. "Have either of you boys decided yet?"

"My request is simple, but potentially unrealistic." Duck said. Hatt indicated for him to continue. "I'd like to get away from the yards, Sir, and towards the Sea. Working in Brendam was a lovely time, and Knapford Harbour is a wonderful place as well."

Hatt smiled. "You seem quite sentimental about the ocean, Duck." He stated. "I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you Sir." Duck nodded.

"I'd like a Sandwich, Sir." Gordon decided bluntly. "That's all."

The other engines roared with laughter. "So i's YOUR faul' eyh keep findin' meat on th' rails at yon station!" Douglas shouted. "Eyh might'ave known!"

Gordon began to flush red. "Oh the Indignity." He mumbled.

Hatt patted Gordon's buffer kindly. "I know just what to do about that Gordon! I've got an M. C. BUNN. loyalty card that I can leave in your name. You'll get free sandwiches every week!"

"YES!" Gordon shouted happily. "Thank you Sir Topham Hatt!"

The engines laughed again as Hatt looked back to the twins. "And I dare say I've given you quite a bit." He said, pointing at the two of them.

"Coul'nae ask fer anythin' more!" Donald agreed, and Douglas tooted his whistle in agreement.

Sir Topham Hatt smiled and walked back to his car. There, on the roof of it, sat a newspaper. Topham looked around, but found nobody nearby who could have left it there. He grumbled a little and scooped 'The Sodor Post' off the roof to find a simple and bold headline: **HATT KEEPS ILLEGAL ENGINES: By: Anonymous**

Sir Topham Hatt sighed, tired of the charade. He knew very well that 'Anonymous' was Jerry's way of staying out of the public eye after the previous night, and that this was to be tomorrow's regular, slander-filled paper. He tossed it in the back seat of his car and drove off, due for Brendam.

[]

"Any request?" Bill asked.

"Anything at all?" Ben added.

"Anything within reason, boy, which we all know you lack." Hatt kept a smiling face on as he said this, but had half-heartedly considered skipping them this morning.

Bill and Ben looked downright gleeful. "Sir- we want you to know something." Bill said.

"You are the kindest- Ben continued

"Greatest-

"Most Thoughtful-

"Most Handsome-

"Great… wait you already said greatest."

"GET TO THE POINT!" Topham shouted over the twins' false flattery.

"Can we have a bouncy ball to play with like the children do?" They asked in perfect sync. The Fat Controller facepalmed loudly, the smack echoing around the Clay Pits.

"An engine-sized one of course." Ben added.

"We'd just like something to do when there aren't trucks to take!" Bill continued.

Sir Topham Hatt sighed and shook his head. "You know what- fine. I'll see if I can buy an 'Engine-sized bouncy ball' for you two. Godred knows where I'd find one though."

Bill and Ben whooped in joy, and Hatt hurried back to his car before they requested any other engine-sized playthings.

[]

_Burnett wiped the excess oil away from Lady's wheels and sat back to examine his work. "Well-oiled, just like you like them."_

_Lady rocked back and forth a little to feel the smoothness of her wheels, then nodded in agreement. Burnett turned to put the tools away, and she spoke up. "But of course, what good is a well-oiled machine if it doesn't do anything?"_

_Burnett sighed. "We've gone over this, m'Lady."_

"_Sodor is a safe place!"_

"_We don't know that! It takes a few days for me to get news from Lowham or Robert at all, and neither of them have written about Sodor for over a year now! It could be entirely Dieselized now!"_

"_But it isn't, Burnett. I sense only a small taint of Diesel on the Island- do not forget my powers!"_

"_Powers which are doomed to fail when it matters most- as Proteus prophesied."_

"_I could blow you and this mountain to bits without scratching myself! I could teleport right to the center of the Island right now and declare myself a god, and no-one would disagree!"_

"_But you won't, because you know better."_

_Engine and Driver stared off for a moment, before Lady looked away and Burnett sat at his stool in defeat. "What else do you propose we do?" Burnett asked._

"_There's got to be some way to find out more about the island- is there anyone we could send there?"_

_Burnett tapped his foot against the floor nervously. "Well… There's a guy in Shining Time…"_

"_Yes?" Lady pushed._

"_W-we aren't on very good terms right now though. After I…"_

_Lady groaned as she realized the situation. "The Conductor. Not just any Conductor either, is it?"_

"_I stole this from him." Burnett raised the tampered whistle for her to see. "But if he could make it work, he could go back and forth from the island for us in a matter of minutes."_

"_Then… then you must give it to him!" Lady told him, her voice reaching desperate peaks._

_Burnett rolled the whistle on the table. "I don't know if this is a good idea Lady."_

"_But it's the only way I'll stop bothering you about it."_

_Burnett rolled his eyes and picked up the whistle again. "Godred… I hate it when you're right."_

"_I'm an angel Burnett, I'm always right."_

[]

"So Edward, what would you like?" Sir Topham asked his final engine. "And please be quick about it." His exhaustion was enough already, since he'd driven himself to Brendam sheds to speak to Edward, only to realize Edward had been sleeping in the side-shed at Tidmouth all along.

"Oh that's easy sir, I'd like a tune-up if it's alright." Edward replied, his grey face showing it's years. "I've got a few aches in my boiler and my left axle feels wobbly."

"That's just fine Edward. Merry Christmas!" Hatt waved to his engine as he began to trudge back through the snow to his car. Edward tooted his whistle in response and Sir Topham Hatt turned the corner of the shed to find a surprise there.

"Jerry Jingle." Hatt sighed. "Kindly remove your bottom from my car."

The unwelcome reporter, ever dressed in his brown trenchcoat and matching fedora, slid off the hood of the baby-blue car. "Mornin' sah." Jerry smiled, but his smile seemed almost genuine.

"What do you want, It's Christmas Day blast it!" Topham demanded, brushing snow from the roof of his car as Jerry stepped away.

"I was wonderin' if ya'd go''en mah sneak-peek of tomorrow's pap'a." He replied in his cockney accent. "Tha' li''le article on front 'as your name on it!"

"No doubt you're proud of your handiwork." Hatt grumbled. "'Course I saw it, you left it right on my car here!"

"Mah Handiwork?" Jerry laughed loudly. "Never! I'd never be so blunt to ya!"

Hatt stopped, looking the cheery reporter over for a minute. He reached into his car and picked up the paper one again and inspected the article. Sure enough, the piece was written in a different hand than Jerry Jingle's. "Alright then, what is it you want?"

Jerry sighed and leaned against the car door Hatt held open. "Look sah, aft'a we talked a few weeks ago, I realized ya' don't know what it's like for me, as a reporter." Sir Topham Hatt scoffed and Jerry stood straight. "Ye don't understand, I don't just write what I think! I've got t' write what sells! And the truth is- Slander sells."

Jerry's smirk never faded as he sold the hard truth to the Fat Controller, and Hatt listened as Jerry explained a little of how the Sodor Post had become a much more popular paper after he'd begun writing stories about the railway. Everyone on the island was influenced by the NWR, and stories about it kept the public on edge and always buying.

"So you see, I've never had a thing against ya, Sir." Jerry laughed "Though I suspect ye've always disliked me."

Jerry stepped away and began walking toward Tidmouth Town, but Topham called out. "Wait, then who wrote this article?" He pointed to the latest paper, where the article's author was listed as 'Anonymous.' "And why can't I find your name in here?"

For the first time, Jerry stopped smiling. "I dunno who wrote that one Sir." He replied, and looked toward Tidmouth Sheds- away from Topham. "And the reason ya won't be hearing of me writing anymore is because I've got a new job. I'm working with anoth'a Newspaper in Bristol. After your speech last night mah boss got worried we'd lose sales because 'a me, and called his brother- the owner of the other paper- to transfer me."

For the briefest moment, Hatt felt a mix of joy and sadness. He was glad to at last be rid of the tormentous reporter, yet he felt somewhat bad for the real man, the man behind the author who was just doing his job. "I see." -that was the only response he could muster.

Jerry waved to the Fat Controller for the last time, then kicked a snowdrift apart as he wandered back to Tidmouth. And that would be the last time Sir Topham Hatt and the engines would see of Jerry Jingle for a very long time.

"Is he gone?" Gordon called from the sheds as Jerry faded from veiw.

"Yes Gordon," Topham declared. "Yes he is."

[]

"Diesel, 10 wants to meet us in the scrapyard." BoCo called.

Diesel shoved the trucks he was shunting into their siding and rolled backward and turned on the nearby turntable to face the big Green Class 27 Diesel who'd called to him. "What is it this time?" He growled, but BoCo wouldn't respond.

He followed BoCo through the large workyards and honked away a group of crows. The Scrapyard lay just beyond his working area, but 10 summoning him into the area was nothing new. The Warship of Barrow was the sentient, known leader of the yards and took orders only from the controller.

A handful of other Diesels were there already. Two other Class 8s that Diesel had come to know as the Iron Twins. Beside them was a Class 7 who worked at the docks nearby and wouldn't shut up about the sea. Sitting in the front, high and mighty on his ramp and waiting patiently for Diesel and BoCo was Diesel #10, the Warship of Barrow.

"Took you long enough." He sneered in his drawling and pompous accent. "I was beginning to think you'd tried to run again, BoCo."

BoCo gulped. "I- I learned my lesson 10." He replied.

D10 smirked and turned to Diesel. "You've caused me quite a problem, Blackbird." 10 growled. "Our… Introduction… to Sodor has been halted." Diesel tried to stutter an apology, but 10 cut him off. "BUT! This will only be a minor setback in the long run. I have forgiven you this time Blackbird, but do not fail me a second time."

"Wha's yer plan then 10?" one of the Iron Twins asked.

"My plan will be revealed when it's time, Bert." D10 snapped. "But I will tell you this. The reason I've gathered this specific group together is because, when all is said and done, we all will be on Sodor."

Diesel had his doubts, after everything he'd seen on the Island, not to mention he himself would never be welcomed back. "And then what?" he demanded. "After we're all there, what is it you've said you're going to search for?"

Diesel 10 laughed. "That's for me to know, and you to find out." He rolled down his ramp and moved the Sea-loving Class 7 onto another track. "Now, I've got an appointment with the mechanics. I'm destined to become a Battleship."

[]

[]

_Forgive me my friends. This episode was meant to be done and posted long before now, much closer to Christmas like I'd planned. But with family drama and writers block I didn't feel like getting it out there. But, I'm back and you can bet your buffers that I've got big plans coming up. _

_Now, to those who have reviewed, let's go in order shall we?_

_To Tweetsie12: romance between engines is not only possible for the story, it WILL happen. However Lady's story arc is not going to end up the way, she's got a different path to take. As for Thomas? We'll see :)_

_To 'Guest': yes, Rev Awdry's think clergyman will be appearing eventually, but I'm not sure how soon I can implement him._

_To PurpleGuest: real railway incidents inspired a few of Awdry's stories, but I am looking at including a few ones he never drew inspiration from._

_To PrincessJunebug13: thank you so much!_

_To tate310: The legend of Proteus is more than a Sudrian tale. Sentient engines hear stories from their drivers about other railways and pass them to each other. Duck, having lived on the popular GWR for such a long time, would hear such a legend regardless of which island they'd have lived on._

_To Guest: I hope you're satisfied with the story I've created about Jerry Jingle. I'm proud of this weird reporter OC I've created and I hope you like his logic. _

_To SailorAquos16: Thank you for reviewing cuz honestly your glowing review is what dragged me back to this story. It's good to know people still like this idea so, I'm back and I'm ready to tell you all more._

_And on that note, the upcoming stories will not only combine Awdry and Allcroft stories, with my classic spin on them, but it's going to go directions you won't expect and I'm excited to keep writing! Give me about a week and the next episode will be ready!_

_-HunterCreeper712_


	52. Island Affairs

**Chapter 52:**

The day started like any other on the Northwestern Railway. Months had passed, tensions cooled, and things had become quite dull on the island. And that was never a good thing.

May 25th, 1964. Gordon and the Express sat at Platform 1 at Knapford Station, waiting as passengers boarded the Wild Nor' Wester. Charlie Sand sat on a bench against the wall of the station, rubbing his head in an attempt to wake himself up. He'd been up late with another headache, the kind of headache that came from worry.

"Mornin' Gov'na!" called a friend. Charlie looked up to see Quincy Norramby, the stationmaster, standing by his side, offering him a canteen of water. "Rough night?"

"You have no idea." Charlie sighed, accepting the drink and pouring it down his throat. "Just been trying to stay alert- have a train to run after all."

"Some funny folk on board this mornin', 'ave ya noticed?" Quincy asked.

"Yeah, there's some kind of Fete or something happening in Kellsthorpe." Charlie replied, handing back the drink.

"Even with th' Vica''s Fete next month?" Quincy asked.

"Suppose so." Charlie shrugged and looked over the station. Just across the way, he saw Sir Topham Hatt greeting a pair of businessmen. Charlie ducked to avoid eye contact, and Quincy watched him with some amusement. "Don't mind me." Charlie whispered.

Quincy waved to the Fat Controller and chuckled. "Still in a rough spot with him, aren'cha?" he laughed. "It's been nearly five months, mate!"

"Hatt only hired me back out of desperation." Charlie admitted, standing from the bench and stretching. "I keep my head down now, make sure I don't do anything to upset him." Charlie glanced at his watch, knowing it was nearly time to leave. "Anyway, thanks Quincy."

"I do me best." Quincy shrugged.

Charlie Sand approached his engine, glancing across Gordon's large wheels as a half-hearted inspection. "Was that Quincy you were talking to?" Gordon asked.

"Yeah, good enough fellow to give me a drink." Charlie shrugged, brushing a mixture of soot and dust off of Gordon's footplate. "Why?"

"Those Norrambys are gossiping about lately." Gordon replied with some distaste. "They're aboard every train it seems, always chatting idly about the state of the railway."

"They've got a downright massive family. You'd expect to see a lot of them."

"Henry thinks they're looking to over power the Fat Controller, and take the railway for themselves." Charlie rolled his eyes. "Duck agrees, said something like that happened on his old line." Charlie nodded and mumbled in response. "And James says-"

"Henry says- Duck says- James says-" Charlie spluttered. "Who's gossiping now, eh Gordon?"

Gordon coughed and shook his head. "I only meant to inform you."

Charlie sighed and smiled, jumping into the cab of the great Express engine. "If anyone's trying to buy out the railway, it's that bloke Callhan. Lord Callhan ordered an entire new line just for himself, did you know?"

"As if Sir Topham Hatt would allow that!" Gordon replied, indignant.

"But he did. There's to be a new line built from Tidmouth along the west bank, up toward Arlesburgh."

"Where's he getting the money from then? What with expanding the docks at Brendam too!"

Gordon pooted loudly on his whistle as the clock clicked to time, letting the station know that he was ready to go. Charlie eased the driver brake off his engine and looked back to the guard, who was waving his green flag.

"Express coming through!" Gordon shouted, and started down the main line.

[]

Along the Ffarquhar line, crossing over the tall bridge that was the namesake if the city Elsbridge, a little green tank engine puffed along with a line of trucks. Percy was on his way down the line, having taken a load from Anopha quarry at the far end of the line. The load was due for the construction zone outside of Tidmouth Yards, where the new line was being built. But naturally, the trucks were giving the poor engine some greif.

"Creepy crawly Cat'apilla'!" SCRuffey jeered. "Move fasta' why don'cha!"

Percy wheeshed and huffed. "Because you trucks are holding me back!" He shouted. "Godred- I need a drink."

"Give it your all Perce- there's a water tower coming up!" Neil O'Heart cheered from the cab, throwing another shovel's worth of of coal into Percy's fire.

Into the city of Dryaw, the tired engine finally came to a rest. The trucks chittering behind him, Percy bumped them thoroughly as he stopped beneath the water tower. Neil climbed out and began to fill his tank, and Percy sighed in relief as the cool water filtered through him.

A friendly whistle came from down the line, and Percy looked up to see a familiar blue tank engine puffing up the line with his two respectable coaches behind him. Thomas slowed to a stop as he entered Dryaw station, stopping just beside Percy. "Hello!" He tooted. "Looks like you got the lucky load!" He laughed.

Percy didn't find it funny. "Lucky?" He spluttered. "I'm dragging a ton of rock behind me, and the trucks keep jamming their brakes and making it harder!"

Thomas laughed. "Sorry lad. I meant that to be funny."

"Well it's not." Percy huffed. "And what about you? You take your coaches every few hours without a fuss."

"We're coaches, not trucks!" Annie shouted from behind Thomas.

"The one causing trouble on our train is him!" Clarabel added.

Thomas laughed. "I'm sorry ladies, I can't help it sometimes! And anyway, I'd never get the train derailed, like those trucks!"

"That's right!" Bob Hardy agreed, poking out of Thomas' cab. "Thomas is good enough that, if it weren't for some rules, I'd let him take the train himself!"

"That's only so you can run off to Chloe!" Neil shouted from Percy's roof.

Percy and the coaches laughed at this, but Thomas seemed struck. "Take the train by myself?" Thomas whispered to himself. The others' didn't hear him, but the concept was firm in Thomas' mind. He wondered to himself, could he take a train alone?"

[]

Down in the town of Tidmouth, near the sheds, a track was being built. A new line, as has been stated, was being built from the town up the west coast of the island. Presently, Douglas and Duck were on the new sidings, each coupled up to a line of trucks and awaiting the workers. Sir Topham Hatt stood in a nearby signal box, watching the construction from above with some annoyance.

The project, after all, had been none of his idea. But Lord Callan had paid the railway a large amount of money for this extension of the line. His family were old founders of the island, and he owned the large estate on the west side of the island. The wealthy landowner wanted easier access to his home, and suggested an entire new line to accommodate the towns along the coast that didn't have railway service. Topham had reluctantly agreed.

"It looks like the station Haultraugh hasn't been approved by the city board yet." Reported Jeremiah Jobling, the head railway inspector of the NWR. "But other than that, the project is moving along quickly."

"How far along are we with the expansion in Brendam?" Topham asked, referring to his second investment for expanding his railway.

"A. W. Dry co. is still laying out the main parts of the docks, and preparing the ship yard." Jobling replied. "That will take a quite some time. It's probably better to focus on the new line for the time being."

Topham looked back out the window, where Duck was steaming up to leave. "Excuse me Jobling." He said, and quickly walked out of the signal box. He climbed down the ladder and approached his engines on the line. He stumbled slightly over the ballast but made his way to the Great Western Engine. "Good morning Duck!" He called.

"Good mornin' sir!" Duck replied cheerfully. "I was about to make my way to Knapford, can I take you along?"

"No thank you Duck, I have something to tell you actually." Topham replied. "Is Elaine here?"

"Roight here, Topham!" Elaine Peters poked her head out of Duck's cabin and waved. "What's the matter?" She asked, jumping off the train and approaching the Fat Controller.

"Nothing's wrong- I have good news actually!" Topham beamed. "Duck, as I recall, the thing you asked of me this past Christmas has gon unfulfilled. You asked to work near the sea more often, correct?"

Duck's face lit up in almost instant realization. "Yes sir!" He laughed.

Topham gestured to the construction around them. "I'll need a good engine to run this line- but there's something else."

"Anything for that sir! I'm happy to work here!"

Topham rolled his eyes. "I'm looking for a Diesel Railcar to work on this line alongside you."

Duck tilted his head. "A Diesel."

Elaine laughed. "After what happened with the first one!?"

"I understand the shock, but at this point in time, it's just bad business for the railway not to be using Diesel power in some way." Topham looked back and forth between engine and driver, looking for a positive response. "Regardless, this line will be available for you, should you chose to work here."

And with that, the Fat Controller walked off the line, shaking his head and wondering if that was the best way to tell the engine such news.

Elaine looked back up at Duck. "I dunno- could it be as bad as last?" Elaine shrugged.

"I suppose it comes down to wether this Railcar is as Diesel-elitist- "Dieselitist"- as Blackbird was." Duck replied thoughtfully. "I do love this view though…"

Elaine checked her watch and practically jumped as she saw the time. She rushed aboard Duck and unlocked his brakes. The Great Western engine tooted his whistle and pulled out of the siding, only slowing for a moment to call a farewell to Douglas.

With his short train of empty trucks and a single coach, Duck puffed past the city limits of Tidmouth. The new line bypassed Tidmouth Sheds and Knapford Harbour by connecting the loop line and Knapford side lines. Duck chuffed by on the small portion of new track, looking out as far as he could over the building tops for a look at the ocean beyond the island. The blue waters shimmered enchantingly in the distance, but suddenly Duck lost sight of it. Houses and other buildings blocked the view as he made his way toward Knapford Station.

Slowing as he entered the city of Knapford, he slowed to a stop at platform 5, allowing workmen to enter and exit his coach. Already waiting inside of the big station, and bickering away at platforms 3 and 4, were James and Percy. Percy didn't have any trucks with him, having left them in Knapford yards already, and James was loading a Passenger train due for Kirk Ronan.

"I told you already. You're overreacting!" Percy told the Red engine.

"James? Overreacting?" Duck laughed. "Never heard of such a thing!"

"He's going off about the Norramby Family overthrowing Sir Topham Hatt and taking over the railway!" Percy told Duck. "It's utter bollocks!"

"I only meant to warn you, little Percy!" James replied in his snootiest voice. "And anyways, it was Duck who first suggested this!"

Percy looked wildly at Duck, who shrugged the way engines do. "I never said it _would_ happen, just that it could." Duck wheeshed slightly and settled into place. "The Norramby family has been purchasing a lot of share in this railway, and you can find one at every station and on every passenger train. There is an awful lot of them, and should they choose to, they could potentially force Topham to allow them to purchase the entire North Western Railway."

"But why on Earth would they do that!?" Percy cried.

"A variety of possible reasons exist." Elaine replied. "He may not be a problem anymore, but Jerry Jingle's writing is still in many Sudrian's minds. Some people lost faith in the Hatts, even after Topham's speech at the Christmas Party."

"There's a lot of bad things they could do if they took over, the most obvious being scrapping all of us and replacing us with Diesels!" James continued.

"But why on Earth would they!?" Percy repeated. "There are a lot of Norrambys working on the line right now, and as far as I know, they all like us!"

"As far as you know- what do you know about them!?" James snapped.

"A great deal more than you do." Duck mumbled.

James went as red as his paintwork, but luckily, it was time for him to leave. His driver, Geoffrey Black, was already steaming him up as he shook off Duck's insult. "I was trying to help." James whined, acting as if he was the victim in the situation.

"By spreading gossip? How has that helped in the past?" Duck asked smartly.

James blew his whistle, much harder and louder than normally, and set off down the Main Line. But at the same time, coming in fast from the opposite direction, the Express thundered into Knapford. "Ah, trade one big bastard for another- forgive my language." Duck muttered. Percy sniggered at the curse rather than act surprised. Duck was known to be as foul-mouthed as his name if provoked.

[]

It was much later in the day. The setting sun glinted off the glass roof of the same station Duck and Percy had gossiped in earlier, and the sky was turning a beautiful shade of pale blue-pink.

Now, it was Henry and Thomas sitting at the station, each collecting their final train of the day. Bob Hardy and Ted Brigham sat on the bench between platforms 2 and 3, idly chatting of love as they waited. It was a subject Bob was deeply invested in, given his evolving relationship with Chloe Kyndley, and was constantly searching for advice from his fellow drivers.

"And that's when I realized I truly loved her." Ted finished his story with much sentiment, looking off towards the setting sun. "Of course, it was a whole 'nother month before we were engaged."

"Right right- I'm not quite there yet with Chloe, but I understand what you're saying." Bob nodded. "That's a lovely story though."

Meanwhile, the two engines were chatting a ways in front of their drivers, doing their best to ignore their drivers.

"There's a lot of rumors flying about the Norramby family, so I hear." Henry said. "Do you know anything about that?" Thomas shook his head. "Gordon, James and Duck were talking an awful lot about that last night. I wasn't paying much attention to them, but it sounded bad." Thomas didn't seem to be paying attention to Henry either. "Thomas, did you hear me?"

"Sorry Henry. I was lost in another thought." Thomas said. "Have you ever driven yourself?" He asked suddenly.

Henry was taken aback. "A little bit- haven't we all?"

"I mean further than just the shed to the yard. I mean… have you ever taken a train by yourself? All the way from Knapford to Vicarstown maybe?"

"Godred- no, Thomas!" Henry laughed. "We're not supposed to go without our drivers!"

Thomas still didn't seem to be listening to Henry. "Edward did it- that bad night. When you crashed the Flying Kipper, Edward made it from the crash site, to the sheds, and almost all the way back before running out of puff."

"And he's been sick ever since!" Henry protested. "Thomas! Get this idea out of your little head right now!"

Thomas glared at Henry. "I'm just thinking about the possibility."

[]

_:)_

_I'm back._

_And there are good things to come._

_-Hunter_

_(P.S. I'm never putting an estimate for my next chapter again. I can never hold to a deadline. Guess that's why I barely passed school)_


End file.
